Champions
by Failed Symphony
Summary: After the Triwizard tournament, Harry reveals Voldemort's return. Most people refuse to believe him, preferring to believe he is an attention seeking lunatic. However, it isn't long before someone seeks him out for protection from the Dark lord.
1. Unexpected Meeting

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. This work is not meant for profit. I also do not own Dungeons and Dragons, but it is an amazing game. Because I don't feel like creating Latin names for spells, some of them will be based off of D&D spells. Credit for D&D material goes to Wizards of the Coast.

Chapter 1

At 5:38 in the morning, Privet Drive appeared perfectly normal in every way. It looked exactly the same as it always had on other mornings. To the casual observer, there was nothing worth observing, unless said observer was admiring the multitude of perfect lawns, the epidemic of clean white houses, or the subtle differences in the gardens. In fact, the only unusual occurrence was in number 4, where one unusual boy was writhing in his sleep trying desperately to escape yet another nightmare in which a comrade was murdered and one of the most dangerous men in centuries was given a new form. When at last he escaped the nightmare of his sleeping world, he groaned as he woke to the nightmare that was number 4 Privet Drive. Knowing there was no way to return to the land of sleep even if he wanted to; he lay awake staring at the patterns in the ceiling he had memorized years ago. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes, he would see the glassy eyes of Cedric Diggory staring back at him. Harry blamed himself for Cedric's death, for Harry had been the one to suggest that they both grab the cup. Harry had insisted on being noble once again, and this time it had finally cost someone their life.

A soft fluttering of wings snapped him from his reverie and he turned to see Hedwig land on his bedpost, back from her nightly hunt. She looked at him and Harry could see the light reflected in her eyes, eyes that looked as though she knew what was bothering him.

He sat up and she flew to his outstretched arm. "Had a good hunt then?" he asked as he stroked her feathers. She gave him a soft hoot which he assumed was a yes and an affectionate nibble on his finger. Harry was glad the order and Sirius had threatened the Dursley's; he knew how much Hedwig hated being caged all summer. Harry himself felt caged in though, ever since he had come back at the request of professor Dumbledore three days ago. He wasn't sure what was so important about him being here anyway. After all, this was hardly the first time he'd had a mass murderer after him. Well, technically Sirius wasn't a murderer, nor was he after Harry, but everyone thought he was so it still counted in Harry's mind. That time he had been allowed to stay in an inn! It was easily one of his favorite summers. He had been allowed to live for a short time on his own terms, and got to know several of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley. That brought another thought to Harry's mind. Maybe he could go back to Diagon Alley for a few things.

It wouldn't be too hard to slip past the person hiding under the invisibility cloak at the corner of the lawn. After all, anyone who thought that they couldn't be seen while their footprints where wandering around on grass wasn't too bright. Add to that Harry's own invisibility cloak, and all he would have to do was convince his uncle to leave the back door unlocked in the evening for him to slip back in unnoticed. He dug around in his trunk and pulled out his cloak and his sack of coins from his last visit to Gringotts then stuffed them both into his enormous pockets. It was the only advantage to wearing his cousin's oversized clothing as far as Harry was concerned.

After getting ready he went quietly down the steps, remembering to skip the one that squeaked so as to avoid waking anyone else. After entering the kitchen he looked through the cabinets and the fridge before deciding to make omelets for himself and Vernon, figuring a peace offering as well as the promise not to be in the house all day would get him to allow a slightly freer living arrangement for Harry.

There were many things that Harry could call his uncle, but late for a meal was certainly not on that list. True to form, as the scent of food on the stove wafted through the house, his uncle awoke. After his morning routine he too entered the kitchen and assumed a look of surprise, confusion, and anger at the same time, to the effect of having an expression that would have made babies wail in horror. He settled on asking venomously, "Just what do you think you're doing in my kitchen, boy?"

Harry simply looked at him and replied, "Cooking breakfast uncle Vernon. Care for some?"

"What have you done to it boy? Do you think you can poison me?" He sneered as though the very thought of his nephew being helpful was absurd.

"Would you believe I simply want to make breakfast for you?"

"No."

"Alright then. I want you to leave the back door unlocked this evening. I plan on spending some time elsewhere and I would prefer to do so discreetly."

"And just why should I let you leave at all?" Vernon said as he accepted the plate from Harry. Secretly, this plan didn't sound too bad to him, except for the bit about the blasted boy coming back again.

"Would you prefer I stayed?" Harry used every ounce of his willpower not to smirk as he waited for the enormous man to decide that the less time Harry spent in the house, the less time there was for him to somehow ruin everything in it.

At this Vernon began eating as he considered his options. Forcing the boy to stay would mean having a freak in the house, but allowing him to leave would allow him to possibly enjoy himself. Then he remembered he wasn't really allowed to torture the boy as he would tell those other freaks and then there was no way of knowing what would happen. If he couldn't drive the freakishness out of the boy, then why have him around the house? Plus, he had made a delicious breakfast, not that he would ever admit such a thing. As Vernon finished his breakfast he noted that Harry was also eating, something which he tried not to allow if he could help it. Oh well, maybe this could still be worked to his advantage. He turned to Harry and said, "If you make breakfast for me every morning you're here, I'll let you leave the house. But don't tell me where you're going. If you get lost it's your fault and I won't help you back. Got it boy?"

Harry smiled. It was almost too good to be true. While it was annoying that he would have to cook at least for his uncle every morning – his aunt and cousin preferred to sleep in to a more reasonable hour when they could – he would get a bit more practice at cooking on top of being able to eat and leave the house at will. "I promise to let you know if I won't be back so that you won't leave that door unlocked for no reason, but don't try to lock me out. It wouldn't go well for you if I have to ask for help getting back in." That stopped Vernon for a moment, but Harry knew the last thing his uncle wanted was more "freaks". A grudging nod from his uncle later and Harry got up and left out the back.

As he donned his invisibility cloak he marveled at how invigorating it was to be able to go nearly anywhere. It wasn't hard for him to find the footprints now pacing near his neighbors. He idly wondered who it was but decided that it was unimportant. To be safe though, he walked several blocks away before summoning the Knight Bus. Moments later, he heard a loud BANG as the bus appeared and skidded to a halt directly in front of him. The familiar voice of Stan Shunpike greeted him, "Hello, and welcome to the Knight bus. I'm Stan Shunpike… 'Ey! Ain't you that Neville Longbottom kid what was pretending to be 'Arry Potter?"

"Er, I'm not sure I know what you mean"

Stan considered this for a moment, then decided it probably didn't matter who was pretending to be who so long as they paid. "Well, anyways, it's eleven sickles if you don't want anyfink extra, where choo wanna go again?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, in London." After paying the fare to a nodding Shunpike, Harry was promptly flung to the rear of the bus as it took off. If he hadn't known better, Harry would have thought the bus had a small control over time, as the next few minutes seemed to take much longer than minutes had any right to do.

* * *

As soon as Harry stepped off, a loud _'bang'_ signaled the departure of the bus and he threw on his cloak again, then proceeded to Diagon Alley through the pub. It felt good to be back here in the wizarding world where he felt he belonged. Deciding that the first stop on his list should be Gringotts in the event that he should find anything he wanted to buy, he walked toward the white building in the distance. Of course, as he was invisible, Harry had to take care not to bump into too many people, something he knew from his frequent nightly tours of Hogwarts and a few unscheduled trips into Hogsmeade. Something he was not accustomed to however, was avoiding someone rushing towards him suddenly. If he hadn't had his cloak on he would have sworn it was intentional, but from the way she fell down after their collision he was sure it was an accident. He was also aware that the hood of his cloak had come down leaving him with a sense of déjà vu. _"Maybe I should see if she's alright,"_ thought Harry as he simultaneously stood up and hid his cloak. He had never before been glad that Dudley's old clothes were so large on him. The girl looked oddly familiar, yet different as he offered his hand out to help her up. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see you there."

She accepted the hand gratefully until she looked him in the eyes. A look of recognition flitted across her face, followed closely by confusion and a hint of something that Harry couldn't recognize. "Just what do you think you're doing Potter? Wait, how did I not see you?"

"Er, well, um…"

"Never mind that, if you can do it again I need you to follow me. Don't ask questions, I'll explain shortly." She then turned around and walked away, without making any obvious glances to ensure someone was following.

"_Why is it always me?"_ thought Harry as he again pulled on his cloak. This time however he drew his wand before following, just in case this was some sort of trick. He was still trying to recall just where he had seen her. Trailing a few feet behind so that he could watch for an ambush while keeping an eye on the stranger, he saw her walk into Twilfitt and Tattings, a clothing store known to carry some of the more expensive fashions. Harry, who had rarely done his shopping without the Weasleys, had never even paused long enough to window shop there. After entering cautiously, he spotted the girl casually browsing through dresses. _"Was I really brought in here for this?" _He wondered. Once she had her selection, she whispered, "If you're still there come with me," as she walked toward one of the changing rooms.

"Are you serious?" he whispered back.

"Don't be stupid. I won't be changing while you're here. Just get in. I don't have all day." Then she walked in and held the door. A quick examination of the room revealed that it was much larger than it looked from the outside. Of course, it probably was much larger than it should have been thanks to magic. Harry trained his wand on her but entered as he was told. He readied a stunning spell when he saw her draw her wand, but was even more confused when she set it on the bench on the side of the room. "I wanted to come in here because this store has some of the most private changing rooms anywhere. They're silenced, imperturbable, and have a host of other security measures to prevent anyone from peeping on others. I know this sounds crazy, and I won't blame you for not trusting me. But let me start by telling me I believe you. I wanted to believe the ministry and pretend You-Know-Who isn't back, but just yesterday Lucius came to our house to offer my parents a chance to join the Death Eaters."

Harry was caught off guard. This was definitely not what he was expecting. "Wait, what do you mean the ministry says Voldemort isn't back? I was there! I saw him!" The girl flinched at Voldemort's name. Suddenly, the rest of her statement caught up to Harry, and he suddenly realized he was looking at Pansy Parkinson without her being attached to the arm of Draco Malfoy. He hadn't recognized her because her face looked markedly different from when he'd seen her at Hogwarts. Also, with her face not contorted into a sneer, Harry had to admit that she wasn't unattractive as she had once been. However, after she recovered, she hissed at him, "Don't say the name!"

"Why, are you afraid he might show up or something? Do you really think he's going to drop by and decide he needs new robes for the next dark lord's ball or something?" Harry was so tired of everyone panicking just because of a silly superstition. "It's just a name. It's not like saying it will tell him exactly where you are, or he'd have killed me ages ago. Or tried more frequently at any rate." She simply responded to this with a glare.

"Anyway, I'm not going to let my parents join up with him. The problem is that we don't really have any alternatives. The ministry has planted its head in the ground, and its rear is working over time making sure nobody believes you. My parents aren't really fond of Dumbledore because he rarely shares information until it's too late, but he still expects everyone to tell him everything. That, unfortunately, leaves you."

Harry frowned at the implications of him being an 'unfortunate' choice. "Just what exactly do you expect me to do? And how did you know how to find me here? I didn't tell anyone I was going to be here."

"Actually that was an accident. I was in a bit of a hurry to get to the Public Owl Post Office to send you a letter that couldn't be traced back to me, when I bumped into someone and you helped me up. Speaking of which, that's a really good disillusionment charm. Even I haven't managed one that good yet."

"Well, uh… that's a secret for now." It would be best to let her assume what she wanted for now.

She looked slightly disappointed but continued. "I wanted to talk to you about the possibility of an alliance between the houses of Parkinson and Potter." Harry was glad his cloak was still on, because he was sure seeing his jaw drop that far would not have been in his favor. "If you'll help hide our family from the Death Eaters somehow, we'll do what we can for you, and based on all the trouble you seem to get into, you could probably use the help."

Harry gave this some thought. On the one hand, if she was being honest, then her family was in trouble no matter what happened. On the other, she had never been all that pleasant to him or his friends, and this could simply be another trick or part of a devious plan. "How do I know you're not actually working for the Death Eaters and trying to kidnap me and bring me back to Voldemort?" She flinched once again. "Oh come on. Voldemort. Voldemort. He's not coming to get you just because I said his name! It's not even his real name anyway, he just made it up so no one would know he's a half blood." At that her eyebrow shot up.

"How do you know he's a half blood?"

"He told me."

"You actually talked to the Dark Lord? Are you mental?"

"He's really quite the conversationalist when he thinks you're about to die." Harry said with a smirk, not that she could see it.

He could see Pansy processing this new piece of information. It was almost amusing. "It's not a trap, but if you want I can give you an oath. My parents aren't aware of this little meeting, but they do know I was going to try to find help. I swear I'm not trying to give you up to You-Know-Who. He's bad for business, and we'd have more to gain by using you as a bargaining chip later than we could now. At least for now he's laying low while the ministry tears you and Dumbledore apart, so that when he returns it will be that much worse for everyone."

"Would you really give an oath that this isn't a trap? I still don't know how I could help you. I might have to ask Dumbledore to do it anyway. Is that okay?"

This made her uncomfortable, but she had to do something. "Well, as long as you make it clear to Dumbledore that all of our deals are going through you and not him, then we can work it out on a case by case basis. And yes, I can and will give you that oath." She reached for her wand but Harry stopped her by saying, "That's not necessary. What I don't understand is why you're coming to me. Aren't you supposed to be Malfoy's girlfriend?"

She shuddered. "Well, he lives near us, and we grew up together. He's always been a bit spoiled but lately he's been hitting record levels of arrogance. He honestly expects his father to give him anything he asks for now that You-Know-Who is back. At least when we were kids he was nice. I only stayed with him for appearances after second year. It was sickening the way he ruined our quidditch team by forcing his way into the seeker spot. Now we can't win a game that we don't cheat horribly at, and he still can't beat you." She smiled a bit to herself remembering how pitifully Draco kept losing to Harry, especially the time when the snitch had been just behind his ear and Harry made it halfway across the pitch to get to it first. "As for why I'm coming to you, well," she paused trying to think of the words. "You-Know-Who seems to have a hard time killing you. It doesn't make sense to me that he would try so hard, but he has, and you're still around. That puts you on a very short list of people that have fought him and lived. I'm pretty sure that you haven't had much training, so that means you're either the luckiest person alive, or you're something far more than we can fathom. My family has connections to a lot of people, and we can arrange real training for you, so that next time you won't have to rely so heavily on luck. It would be even nicer if you accidently finished him off too, but we'll settle for simply being on your side."

"My side? Why not on Dumbledore's side?"

"I already told you, my parents aren't fond of Dumbledore. He's getting old, even for a wizard, so being on his side won't help us that long anyway. You, on the other hand, are famous and powerful, a combination that can make your side that much better for everyone with you. Your know-it-all friend and that bottomless pit that you associate with would be total outcasts if they weren't your friends." That comment irritated Harry, because he didn't like when anyone insulted his friends.

"Hermione and Ron have proven their worth to me several times. Don't insult them. Especially not in front of me." She was taken aback by the cold steel in his voice.

"No, I didn't mean to insult them, but Granger insists on acting like she's the only one who knows all the answers simply because she can memorize entire textbooks in a week, and you can't tell me that Weasley's eating habits don't hurt your appetite at all." Harry was forced to admit she had a point, but then Hermione's mental library had saved his life several times so he wasn't about to complain about that. He secretly agreed about Ron's eating habits though.

"So if I accept, how is this going to work?"

It appeared that Pansy's plans hadn't actually gotten that far, but considering she hadn't planned on this meeting she thought things were going quite well. "I'll have to talk things over with my parents, but I think we could arrange for you to portkey into our manor. I think Leo still owes them a favor so they might be able to arrange for him to train you. He trained Mad Eye Moody, so that ought to tell you something about how good he is. Can I send you an owl with the details later?"

Harry pondered this for a moment. He still hadn't seen any owls from his friends, and with the spy sitting in his front lawn, he wasn't sure if his owls were being monitored also. "Actually, it might be better if we just meet here again. I think I'm being watched at home, so an owl could give something away. Can you be here tomorrow or Friday?"

She nodded. "I'm sure they'll be quick about it, what say we meet here tomorrow at three o' clock?"

He decided another shock would probably put things in his favor, and pulled off his cloak before offering his hand. "That should work. I'll wait out front for you."

Her eyes went wide when he pulled off his invisibility cloak. They were extremely valuable and Harry actually had one! No wonder he could get away with all of those stunts at school! Then her eyes went to the rest of his clothing and confusion spread across her face. "What are you wearing those rotten things for?"

He looked down and realized his clothes were from Dudley as were all of his muggle clothes. "Well, if I come home wearing anything they didn't give me, they'll know I have money and try to take it from me. These all belonged to my cousin."

Pansy was shocked. She didn't know if she was more surprised that Harry's relatives were apparently evil (for no one could possibly force those clothes onto anyone without being evil) or that someone actually needed clothes that wide to cover themselves. "I think we can arrange a lawyer for you as well. Those rags are barely fit to be burned. Would you like to do a bit of private shopping tomorrow as well? I don't really want to be seen anywhere near those clothes."

"I think people would recognize me. You know, the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense? The stupid scar?"

"Oh don't worry about that. I've always had been good with illusion spells. It's really the only magic I've ever been good at. I could have you completely unrecognizable in seconds. Would you like to see?" She picked up her wand and pointed it toward him.

"Uh, sure, I suppose." With a few muttered words and a complicated wand movement he saw his reflection in the mirror change. He now looked as though he had a perfect tan, sandy brown hair, and brown eyes. Even his scar was almost invisible. If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have been hard pressed to notice. "Wow. I didn't know they taught that at Hogwarts."

She smiled. "They don't. Most girls learn a few glamour charms to avoid spending money on makeup, but illusions have always come easy to me. This was actually really easy. If I wanted to, I could make you look like a goblin. I even charmed a few walls to look like doors at Hogwarts just to see how many people would try to get in them. I stopped once a couple of seventh years were looking for a broom closet and decided if they couldn't get in they just couldn't wait. That was far more than I ever wanted to see. But between my illusions, runes, and arithmancy, I can make most things look like just about anything." Another wave of her wand and the illusions were cancelled. "I'll meet you here tomorrow and tell you what I've been able to work out with my parents. They might want to meet you, but I think that can wait until after we get you properly clothed. Now if you would be so kind as to leave, I actually do want to try on these dresses." She said gesturing to the long forgotten (to Harry anyway) garments that had been set aside upon entering. "Thank you for being so understanding, I'm really sorry for all the things I've said and done to you and your friends over the years. I will try and make it up to you."

Harry nodded. "Well, you may have convinced me, but you'll still need to explain things to Hermione when she finds out. As for Ron, well… All I can say is good luck. He hates Slytherins, and despises Malfoy. As for me, I'll hold up my end of the bargain as long as you hold up yours." He threw his cloak back on and vanished from sight, and with a quick "good bye" he left to continue to Gringotts, now with a few more questions to consider.

* * *

Upon arriving at Gringotts, he once again stuffed his cloak into his pocket. Fortunately for him, all of the other witches and wizards in the bank were too busy to even notice him. Once he arrived at the counter he waited for the goblin to address him, remembering something from his History of Magic notes, or rather Hermione's notes, which said Gringotts goblins were always busy, and interrupting them would never be of any help in one's ventures. Finally the goblin looked up and said "Welcome to Gringotts young sir. How may I be of assistance to you?"

"Um, I actually have a few questions, and then I want to make a small withdrawal from my vault." The goblin appeared to be waiting for the questions so Harry continued. "I was wondering if it might be possible for me to hide a family, whether it is by adding additional wards to their house, or if I have any properties, one of my own."

The goblin thought it odd that a child be asking such questions, but then one didn't normally ask these questions to a goblin without a means to follow up on the answers. "Name please?"

"Harry Potter," said Harry quietly. At this the goblin was truly confused. It was documented that Harry Potter had only rarely been to Gringotts personally. Usually he sent the Weasleys in his stead. "Do you have your key sir?" At this Harry shook his head. Mrs. Weasley had his key so she could go shopping for him last year. The goblin frowned and said, "We shall need a blood sample for verification. Your key will be returned to you and then we will be able to answer your other questions. "I am called Gnarlfang. Follow me." Gnarlfang stepped out from behind the counter and led Harry into a private room. Gnarlfang then pulled out a very painful looking knife with the promise that it wouldn't hurt too much. Harry was therefore astonished that in fact it barely hurt at all. He barely saw the knife fly across the tip of his finger, drawing a drop of blood. If he hadn't actually seen the drop, he would have been sure that Gnarlfang missed. The drop fell onto a piece of parchment placed on the desk, and soon written in blood was "Harry James Potter". Harry was intrigued by the cut that had already been healed, and wondered just how the goblins made those things. Gnarlfang put the knife away, and then began rummaging through a cabinet. Moments later, he pulled a fairly thick file out and laid it on the desk, then sat down. Harry followed suit while Gnarlfang perused the documents.

"Well it seems to me, Mr. Potter, that you do indeed have the money required to add special wards to a house of your choosing. Or possibly an island. Though much of this money you will not be able to access until you become a legal adult in the eyes of goblin law which is fifteen years of age, the gold you have access to now would be sufficient to purchase and ward nearly any house you wish. It seems as though your businesses have been very profitable in recent years. I have compiled a list for you to go through at your convenience." He handed over some of the papers to Harry who took them with a growing look of confusion.

"I have that much money? I own businesses? Why wasn't I ever told about these things?"

Gnarlfang replied, "All bank statements are typically sent to the vault owners. In the case of a minor, they are sent to their guardians." Harry's face paled at the thought of the Dursleys finding out about his money. "However, in your case, your guardian was in prison, and is now a wanted man by your ministry. We at Gringotts are aware that young Sirius Black never received a trial, and because of that we take no action that could result in his capture. In these events, your statements are sent to Albus Dumbledore. While he should be showing them to you, he is not required to do so. Upon your fifteenth birthday, and the last day of every month after then, we will send them directly to you. We do not use owls because they are too easily intercepted and tampered with. You will receive a folder in which it will appear for you and anyone whom you specifically allow." Harry was relieved upon hearing this, but rather annoyed that Dumbledore hadn't thought to tell him all this. Not that he knew what he would have done anyway, but shouldn't he have a right to know what was his?

"Is there anything else Gringotts can do for you today sir?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I wanted to make a withdrawal."

Gnarlfang gave a toothy grin revealing where his name was derived. "For you we have a special offer. Many of our wealthier clients use this, and we believe you might appreciate it as well." He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a black bag with gold trim. "This is a Gringotts bag. When you wish to withdraw an amount, simply grasp the bag and think of the amount you would like, and if it is available, it will appear in the bag. Likewise, if you wish to make a deposit, simply place the money in the bag and it will be transported to your vault. There are conditions however. You are not permitted to withdraw more than five-thousand galleons in this manner, or five percent of your account's value, whichever is lower. The stores themselves will have the means to deal with such large transactions. Also, the bag is keyed to you and you only. If stolen, it will return to Gringotts for you to reclaim. This service is five galleons initially, and one galleon a month after that. Is this acceptable Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded. "Very well. The amount will be deducted automatically from your vault on the first of every month until you choose to discontinue it. Gringotts thanks you for your patronage."

Harry replied, "And thank you also, Gnarlfang. You've been most helpful. I may be back later to follow up on those wards though." With that, Harry was escorted out of the office. Upon realizing that several hours had passed (with a forceful reminder from his stomach) he stopped for a quick bite in the Leaky Cauldron. A galleon to Tom even allowed Harry to eat without having his presence announced to the entire pub. All in all, it was shaping up to be an interesting summer. The trip back to Little Winging was just as bumpy as he remembered. He slipped invisibly past his guard to the back of the house and was surprised to find the door was still unlocked. Once he was back in his room though, he turned to Hedwig. "This summer is already getting weird girl."

As he reviewed the paperwork given to him at Gringotts, harry found that his bank vault was worth just over three hundred-thousand galleons. Upon attaining the age of fifteen he would inherit his parents' vault worth over twelve million galleons. On top of all that, he owned a a small portion of many of the stores in Diagon Alley, a couple in Knockturn Alley, and stores in other countries he had never been to. Owning part of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor explained why he was given free ice cream whenever he went. He also had part of Cleansweep brooms, which supplied many of the school brooms, and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? Fred and George had given him a third of their shop! He would have to tell them to keep the money, all he wanted was a few laughs. After reading much of his list, Harry returned to the land of sleep again, where his nightmares returned with a vengeance. It would be a long night for the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

Harry was rudely wakened by that pesky force known as gravity as he thrashed his way out of his bed in an attempt to escape yet another nightmare in which Voldemort attempted to kill him. While grateful that the abrupt stop saved him from his horrific dreams, he wished it wasn't so uncomfortable. A glance at the clock revealed it to be a bit past four in the morning. With nothing to do for an hour he simply crawled back into his bed and once again stared at the ceiling, reflecting upon the events of the previous day, as well as the events to come in the evening. He still wasn't completely sure if he could trust Pansy, but she was ready to take an oath that she was serious. She had said something about the Daily Prophet calling him crazy, but none of the front pages had any information at all on them. He picked one up and opened it, and was soon incensed at the things he saw. How could they deny the truth? Why was Dumbledore not telling everyone the truth? Why was he stuck in this house once again, with no news from his friends? He had gained more information from a chance meeting with someone he had recently thought was opposed to him than his own friends and headmaster. Things just weren't sitting right with him. The offer of training intrigued him. Moody was a legendary auror, and if this Leo guy had trained him, then he must clearly know his business. If he did hide the Parkinson family, maybe he could ensure that they wouldn't go over to Voldemort's side as well. He still didn't know exactly how he could do any of that, but was pretty sure that between the goblins at Gringotts and the Parkinsons themselves, they could come to an arrangement. As his thoughts turned to Pansy, he wondered why she looked different from just a few days ago in school. She claimed to be talented with illusions, so which face was real? The one that Malfoy could hardly stand, or the more attractive face that she had faced Harry with? Was either of them real? Harry suspected that if she had displayed this new face for Malfoy that he might fawn over her as much as she did him.

Shortly before six he walked quietly to the kitchen to once again cook breakfast for his uncle. Once again, the scent of breakfast drew the largest Dursley like a moth to a flame. On this morning he simply chose to eat in silence, which suited Harry just fine. After several plates of food had been inhaled, Harry ate and retreated to his room to prepare for the new day.

At two o' clock he left for Diagon Alley again, with the invisible guard none the wiser. Harry found himself wishing that magical transport could be less uncomfortable, especially after several minutes of being tossed around on the bus. Fortunately he hadn't ordered the coffee that seemed to arrive in the other riders' laps. His stop came and a very relieved Harry stepped off the bus and cloaked himself. This time he made sure to be even more careful not to run into anyone, or let someone hit him. After a bit of window shopping he waited for Pansy to arrive at T&T's. Upon her arrival, Harry couldn't resist tapping her shoulder, both to show that he was there, and to see how high she jumped. He was disappointed when she merely looked surprised. Once more she browsed the store. Harry saw her smirk as she entered a section of the store he had ignored last time, lingerie.

When she made her way to the changing room she whispered, "Well come on." He followed her lead and tried to ignore the small collection of undergarments so casually laid aside while removing his cloak. "My parents wish to meet you, but they seemed ready to take any option that wouldn't lead to supporting You-Know-Who. They've already put in several calls to people who owe them favors. Leo has agreed to teach you if you show him enough promise, and we're pretty sure we can emancipate you if you want to. That way you wouldn't have to worry about your relatives legal claims to your money. We'd have to do it by goblin law however. That means it'll be most of two months before we can get it done. These are for you." She handed him a key and a ring. "The key is a specialized auror portkey. It will record any and all wards that it passes through without tripping any alarms. The ring is a two way portkey with one fixed destination. Both are set to arrive in our front yard, but if you use the ring from there it will take you back to wherever you activated it from to get there. To use them, simply tap it with your wand twice. Use the key first, that way we can decide how to get you back home. That is, if you want to. Do you mind coming over for dinner?"

"I suppose I could do that, but only if I don't have to explain to your parents that we were making use of the privacy of these changing rooms," Harry said with a sly grin. This earned him a small blush and a glare.

"Don't get any ideas Potter. We're here for two things. Business and shopping. You will not be meeting my parents in those. The rest of our business can be discussed with my parents, so that brings us to the shopping." Harry frowned.

"Where will I put my cloak? I'm not just going to leave it somewhere. I'll need a disguise too; I don't want anyone to make a fuss about where I am."

Pansy pulled cast the same illusion on him as the day before. "I could hold onto it while we dress you up." A grin spread across her face. "It would be so much fun to tell everyone I got to dress Harry Potter." Harry scowled, getting a laugh from Pansy. "Come on, we need to get you looking proper."

The two went back into the main store. A clerk saw the two of them exit the small room and smirked to herself. It was hardly the first time a young couple had used those rooms for a bit of fun. Normally she would say something, but the young girl was a good patron, and the clerk was paid on commission. She watched as the boy was lead around the store, and nearly began drooling as the amount of clothes they had set aside grew. The boy seemed rather annoyed at taking so long to shop, but experience told her that he genuinely appreciated the effort. It took a supreme concentration not to cheer or jump for joy as a large mound of clothing was inventoried for them, muggle style clothes and robes alike. She was shocked as the boy pulled out a familiar looking black and gold bag to pay for the clothes. It was hard to believe he could have that kind of money and come into this store wearing rags. The clerk shrunk the clothes and bagged them up, with instructions on how to unshrink them without a wand. The bags were specially made just in case any wealthy muggle born children came here to shop. After the couple left, she did a little jig for all the money she had just made.

Pansy concealed her grin. She could tell Harry had almost enjoyed that trip, and was sure he liked the idea of having real clothes that almost fit. He had insisted on slightly baggy clothing from having worn his cousin's clothes for so long. Hogwarts robes weren't constricting either, so wearing anything that fit his form just felt too tight. She had to admit that he would look much better once he was wearing them. "Here's your cloak. Dinner is at seven, but my parents want you to arrive early so we can discuss things properly before we eat."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why exactly are you inviting me to dinner?"

"It's traditional for families planning an alliance to do so over a meal. Dinner just happens to be the next convenient time. It would be rude for us to discuss these things at your relatives' house. Arrive at six thirty, and wear the grey suit. Dad will love it." With that she gave a wave and walked off.

It was nearing six thirty and Harry had finally managed to put on the suit. He hadn't had to wear one before and found them to be very uncomfortable. If only he could get his hair to lay flat he thought he might look somewhat professional, but he felt very nervous. He had never made these kinds of choices before. He was about to activate his portkey when it occurred to him that this could still be a trap. He pulled on his invisibility cloak once more, and brought along a small bag he had picked up earlier that would hold much more than it should. He placed the ring portkey in his pocket, then activated the key from his bedroom. A nauseatingly familiar tug behind his navel signified that the portkey worked, and soon he landed hard on a lawn that would have made his uncle cry for the beauty of it. Or at least cry that it wasn't in his own yard. His landing alerted the house elf waiting for him, but his cloak still hid him from view. "Who is being there? Is Mister Harry Potter here? Or is Slinky hearing strange thumps and bumps?"

Harry stood up and brushed himself off before pulling off the cloak, surprising the elf in the process. "I'm here; I just didn't want to get caught in a trap if I could help it."

Slinky recovered quickly and smiled. "No worries Mister Harry Potter, Slinky was waiting to show you into the manor. Please follow Slinky." With that the diminutive creature bounded along the path to a mansion that appeared to be larger than a quidditch pitch. Harry was led into a foyer bigger than his uncle's house where Pansy and a woman whom Harry assumed was her mother were waiting for him. The older woman who was slightly taller than Pansy, but otherwise looked very similar to her, smiled and said, "Welcome to Parkinson manor, Mr. Potter. My name is Rose. I trust you already know my daughter Pansy?"

"Yes Ma'am. I haven't talked to her much before yesterday though." Harry hoped he didn't look as uncomfortable as he felt.

"I see. We were quite surprised when she came to us with her plan to request your help. However, she says that you can follow through on your promises, and so that brings us to this discussion. Please, have a seat."

* * *

Harry was much more relaxed after his meeting with the Parkinsons. To be more specific, he was more relaxed about being with the Parkinsons. He had learned some things that confused him. When Rose, Pansy's mother, had done a diagnostic of the wards on his home as recorded by the portkey, she had determined that the only wards remaining were basic alarms. It seemed that anyone bearing a dark mark coming within a mile of his house would trip an alarm, but the alarm would be sent to an external source. Harry had suggested Dumbledore as the likely recipient, as it was he who insisted Harry return there every year. There was a magic residue of another ward that had failed years ago, but it was unlike any ward she had ever seen before. It turned out that Mrs. Parkinson was a consultant for Gringotts warders and cursebreakers. She hadn't earned the right NEWT's to become one, but she was more competent in the theory than many of their experienced workers. None of them could understand why Harry was left so vulnerable, or why the wards were so weak that any magic he cast could be tracked. David Parkinson, who had walked in while Rose explained the ward, had thought that Harry would be heavily warded so he could practice magic at home. It had led to an interesting conversation about how underage magic was tracked.

_Rose explained, "Whenever magic is used, there is a measurable surge in magic activity in that area. The ministry records magical activity all over Britain. Sometimes magic congregates in an area naturally, so any magic not cast by a wand is ignored by the sensors. Magic cast by a registered wand is recorded and if the caster is underage, an official notice of the caster, the spell, and the location is sent to the Improper Use of Magic office for them to decide if anything needs to be done. Unforgiveable curses are recorded the same way."_

"_Why only the unforgiveable curses? Why not some of the other dark curses?" Harry asked._

"_Well, it costs about five galleons to enchant a wand to trip the sensors, and another five to record specific spells. That's why wands are so expensive."_

_Harry looked puzzled. "When I bought my wand, Ollivander only charged me seven galleons."_

_Rose nodded. "He does that every now and then when he feels so inclined. Usually for a customer that he has to try harder to match than most, or when he feels someone needs what little help he can give. Not all wands are the same price anyway. Most of them run about thirty galleons; some of them can hit sixty. Not that it matters. Most people only ever need one wand. If a wand is passed down, it needs to be registered with the ministry so they know. The system breaks down a bit if a wand is lost or stolen, but with the people who follow the laws, it works. In homes with any decent wards, it's far more difficult to track magic. They can still track the unforgiveable curses because that information is sent straight to the ministry, but it can't track children practicing for the summer."_

Harry thought it was unfair to the muggle born and muggle raised children that simply because their homes were often not warded that they would be caught for using underage magic. When he asked about using an unregistered wand, David explained that the sale or use of an unlicensed wand was illegal and punishable by a moderate fine. However, the use of an unregistered wand in committing a crime automatically doubled any penalties associated with said crime.

David Parkinson, a man who looked so ordinary that it was difficult to remember exactly what he looked like even while looking at him, was a successful lawyer in both the muggle and magical world. The easiest thing about him to remember was his eyes. They looked as though they could see directly into your soul. In truth, that was the secret to his success. He was a natural legilimens. He never studied how to use it, but he could easily determine when most people were hiding something, or telling him everything. He was quite certain that given the evidence of Harry's past treatment that it would be relatively simple to emancipate him as well as declare him head of house Potter. He also informed Harry that Leo had agreed to offer training beginning Monday of the next week. In return for these favors, Harry was to provide what protections he could to the Parkinsons' home and to Pansy while she was at school. He noticed the annoyed look that crossed Pansy's face when he mentioned protecting her, as though she really would prefer not needing protection at all, but David could sense that when Harry gave his word to do his best that he truly meant it. It was refreshing for the man to see such honesty when normally he worked with (or against at any rate) people who seemed to have little concept of truth.

"Harry," the man spoke up as Harry was about to leave for the dining room where dinner would be served shortly.

Harry turned and looked back at David. "Yes sir?"

He paused, organizing his thoughts before putting them to voice. "I don't wish to cause you any discomfort, nor do I want to impose on you or your relatives, but with you providing wards for us, and not having any for yourself…" He trailed off, "I suppose what I'm asking is, would you and your family be okay with you staying here for the summer?"

Harry was shocked. This was yet another unexpected turn of events. The thought of leaving the Dursleys so soon was quite enticing, but it seemed too good to be true. "Might I ask why sir?"

"It wouldn't make sense for you to provide us with wards while letting you live without them. I would understand if you want to stay with your relatives, but I would prefer you to be safe. You can't protect us from You-Know-Who if you're killed in your bed."

Harry quickly agreed, and the two of them went to dinner, joining the Parkinson women who were waiting for them.

* * *

Harry lay in his bed still slightly in shock. Tomorrow morning he could finally tell Vernon that he wouldn't be back. He was more than a little unnerved about how he was living in a house that was almost completely unprotected from the people who wanted Harry dead. To be honest, he was also a little unnerved about the variety of wards the goblins offered. Harry and David had travelled to Gringotts after the meal concluded. Harry allowed Mr. Parkinson to select any of the wards he wished, and soon felt very sorry for the poor soul who attempted to break into the manor. There were common wards that controlled apparition access, forcing people keyed into the wards to apparate into a specific spot in the front yard, and people who weren't keyed in would be shunted fifty miles in a random direction. The truly unlucky would find themselves attempting to swim to shore. Portkeys worked in a similar manner, though any portkey created by David would be able to pass through unaffected. For intruders walking up the road, there was a verbal warning, a mild stinging ward, a strong electrical surge, and a host of other unpleasant things before the wards turned lethal. The goblins assured the two that the work could be finished within two weeks, with as much internal security as necessary.

What laid most heavily on Harry's mind that night was not his safety with the Dursleys or the Parkinsons, but his training with the man he had only heard referred to as Leo. They rarely spoke of him, and only did so with respect and a slight hint of fear. While Harry had never met the real Mad Eye Moody, Barty Crouch Jr. must have done a passable job at imitating him if he had fooled so many people for a year. If Moody was a legend, and Leo was his trainer, why was his name only spoken in hushed tones, if it had to be spoken at all? Harry had been faced with several unexpected changes in a very short time, and it was this one that he feared and anticipated the most. His own training with Hermione had been fairly narrow during the previous year. It had helped, but Harry was tired of relying on his fickle luck. Some might consider him lucky to survive these things, but Harry would have preferred not being involved in the first place. He glanced over at Hedwig perched in her cage with her head under her wing, snoozing after her hunt, then at all his worldly possessions packed away in his trunk in preparation for his departure the next day. He wouldn't be coming back here if he could help it, and he certainly wouldn't miss this place. With the thought of training to be a stronger wizard, the thoughts of avenging Cedric and the other innocents who died at Voldemort's hand, Harry finally slept through the night.

In the morning, Harry once again worked his culinary summoning spell otherwise known as breakfast. It wasn't long before the rumble on the steps could be heard and a groggy Vernon Dursley entered the kitchen intent on finding whatever it was that his nose was leading him to. Harry once again wondered idly if the chairs were magically fortified as his uncle sank into one to begin eating ravenously. He wasn't really sure what to say to the man, so he chose to be direct. "Uncle Vernon, I'm leaving again today. I'm not coming back this time."

This was only the third time Harry could recall seeing his uncle actually stop eating halfway through a meal. The first time was when one of Marge's dogs jumped onto his lap and Vernon had to remove it. The second time was during a news story in which a food poisoning scare was mentioned. He had stopped for the entirety of two seconds. This time, He had stopped and simply stared at Harry, causing him to flinch a bit under the scrutiny. "Good. I've had enough of you and your freakishness. You've been corrupting my Dudley for far too long. Good riddance I say."

"You should know then, that if you don't want any other, 'freaks' as you call us, to swarm this place, you shouldn't tell anyone that I'm gone. Keep pretending as though I'm here and you are continuing to ignore me. If no one knows I'm gone, no one will come looking." With that Harry turned around to see Dudley and his Aunt Petunia also going to the kitchen. It was clear that they had listened to the short exchange, but nobody said anything. It appeared as though all of them were quite pleased that it was Harry's last day living there.

Once in his bedroom he went to Hedwig and took her from her cage. "I'm going to live with the Parkinsons now. I don't know where that is, but I know that's never stopped you from finding me before. I'll be there waiting for you, ok?" She hooted then nibbled his finger affectionately. He watched her fly away until she was out of sight before gathering his trunk and her cage, then activated the other portkey he had been given. _'If wizards can make items that send us miles away almost instantly, how much harder can it be to make them set us upright when we land?'_ thought Harry grumpily as he brushed himself off from yet another hard landing. He would have much preferred riding his broom to get here if it weren't for all those pesky secrecy laws and people spying on him. Never mind the fact that he still didn't know exactly where this place was. In the end it didn't really matter he supposed. If he needed a quick escape the portkey would take him straight back to the Dursleys. If his absence was discovered, it would also likely take him to a waiting Dumbledore, or anyone he chose to send in his place. Still, So far Harry did not feel his trust was being misplaced. Really he was only nervous. His summers had always been with the Dursleys, or partially at the Weasleys, and one week had been with Mrs. Figg. This would be his first summer almost entirely away from one of those places. He could only hope that Pansy wasn't as insufferable at home as she was at school. A small pop shook him out of his reverie in time for him to see Slinky before he ran her over. "Slinky will be taking Mister Harry Potter's things to his room. Then Slinky will be showing Mister Harry Potter to his room. You be calling on Slinky if you be needing anything," she said before he could get a word in. It was only seconds before his luggage had entirely vanished (not that he had much) and he was again being led to the house by the tiny creature.

His room was a guest room on the second floor, painted in a shade of green not unlike his eyes, a fact which Slinky had pointed out as the reason this room was granted to him for the duration of his stay. He was permitted to explore the first floor and the basement, but he wasn't to enter a locked door or the third floor without permission. Slinky explained that the doors were only locked when someone desired privacy, and it was honored except in emergencies. The third floor, he was told, was for parties, balls, gatherings, or any other event that required a large amount of space. The second floor was mostly bedrooms, though the master bedroom was a suite, and all of them had their own bathrooms, something which he had never experienced before. The Dursleys had one bathroom for the master bedroom and one for everyone else, the Weasleys had one very busy bathroom, and Hogwarts was a school in which privacy was as difficult to find as all of the shortcuts it contained. The first floor was the living quarters, kitchen, sitting area, and nearly everything that wouldn't be found on the other floors. The basement was mostly a library, with a few rooms off to the side for studying or working. Harry saw that each of the Parkinsons had claimed one of the side rooms next to the library if the names carved into the doors were any clue. The library itself was enormous, and Harry wouldn't have been surprised to hear that it was magically expanded.

As he browsed through the library he couldn't help but notice the large collection of books on runes. There was also a healthy selection that seemed devoted to arithmancy, entire bookshelves devoted to muggle and wizard laws, and a selection of spellbooks that made the Hogwarts library seem pathetic, or terribly disorganized. Though Harry suspected that there were probably quite a few books in the restricted section that would have spells in them, these appeared to be accessible without a permission form. He was soon absorbed in a text detailing basic combat magic and strategies. As he read a theoretical section concerning the casting of the same spell repeatedly at the same target his attention was brought back to the world by the sound of frustrated muttering somewhere in the runes section. Intrigued, Harry walked over there to find an irritated Pansy looking through the shelves. When she picked up what she was looking for she turned and saw Harry, then growled, "What do you want Potter?"

"I heard, er, what's wrong?"

"I'm just trying to decipher an ancient book, and it's not going well. Only half of the runes make any sense, and I can't figure out anything about them. Grr! This is driving me mad! Mummy and I have been working on it for ages but nothing seems to fit when we try to translate it."

"Do you think I could help?"

She gave him a funny look. "I highly doubt it. You don't take runes, so how would you understand any of it?"

Harry simply shrugged; she had a good point. "Can I watch?"

She stared. Harry was proving to be weirder and weirder every second she saw him it seemed. "It's probably not that exciting to you. Just don't interrupt me while I'm reading."

Harry nodded and followed her into the room with her name on it. It looked something like the nests Hermione would build whenever she was working hard on something and not getting anywhere. The similarity was oddly disturbing to him. He caught sight of the book in the center which was clearly the book causing her so much grief. The writing was similar yet different to the other runes in the other books, yet oddly familiar somehow. The book itself had an aged red color to it, and was bound with gold thread. It also seemed to give off a faint aura of unnatural heat. The page she turned to had a rune on the top that was unlike any he had seen, not that he had seen that many.

"This looks a bit different than the runes I see Hermione translating at Hogwarts."

"This is very different from any other book of runes I've ever heard of, except for the rest in this set."

"Why is that?"

"Look at the runes more closely. Only the rune at the top and a few of the runes in the text are written the way we're taught to read them. That's because most of the runes anyone needs to read are magical runes, they have a specific function that changes if the rune changes. These are more like text, an actual language of runes. Some of them are hard to read without context, because they look like two or three other runes, and it's driving me mad. I'm almost certain this is an ancient spellbook, but there's too much I don't know about it to understand it."

"So you're saying that if you knew what spell it was, it would be easier to understand?"

"Probably, but this portion of the text refers to using ingredients for the spell, something that hasn't been in use since before Merlin. That's what makes it so interesting. What's more is that whoever wrote this book must have been legendary in his time."

"How would you know? I only hear about Merlin and the founders, and the founders only because we go to their school."

"The book has an aura. Only the most powerful wizards develop a noticeable aura, and whoever wrote this one was so powerful that their books do as well. This is the first volume so I thought it would have simpler spells, but like I said, I have no reference for what it discusses. That's why I'm looking through the rest of the library to find any of these other runes and what they mean."

Harry simply nodded at that and looked at the page she was working on. Now that she had mentioned it, it did appear as though it was written more to be read than to be used on its own. Sadly, this one textbook that Harry could barely even try to understand had already generated more interest about the history of magic than all of professor Binns' classes combined. Then again, sleep was important, and it was quite easy to nap during his class. The abandoned practice of using ingredients for spells he found particularly intriguing. Did they make the magic stronger? Did they make it easier to cast? Were they even necessary at all? Or were spells long ago comparable to rituals today? It seemed like a lot of work just to cast one spell, but then again there were a comparable number of pages to simple spells in modern school books. "What if the runes are like the theory behind the magic? An explanation of how to cast whatever spell it describes?"

"Oh please Potter. Do you really think that hadn't occurred to me yet? The way this is written, there are hundreds of translations for some of these passages. Now I'm pretty sure I can rule out dangling a fish over a baby while hopping around on one foot, but for all I know this is an obscure ritual. I'm trying to piece together enough of it to figure out what this is for, because from there I believe I can figure out how this is supposed to read. Now stop bothering me. This is hard enough without you constantly asking questions." Harry took that as his cue to leave, so he walked back into the main library to continue reading the book he had started earlier. It kept him occupied until Slinky appeared to invite him to dinner.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair, but when the food was cleared away there was chatter about what each had done during the day. Harry simply watched the family interact while he pretended he wasn't there, and was therefore quite startled to hear his name. David was asking if Harry was okay with Leo arriving to begin his training tomorrow. Harry agreed, though he was still nervous. He chose to retire early that night, and was relieved when nobody questioned him on the matter.

Hedwig fluttered in through the open window in his room and gave him a soft hoot of welcome. "Had a good flight then?" She gave another hoot and a friendly nip on the finger before he stroked her feathers. "I knew you would find me. I think you'll like this place better than the Dursleys." Another hoot came from the owl. "No I don't think I'll ever go back there." Another soft hoot. "No, not even to burn it down. I might phone in a missing child report there, see how that goes. I don't think they ever properly cleaned out my cupboard. Really I would prefer just never seeing them again." Hedwig hooted softly before flying to her perch. "Yeah. I'm going to rest now too. I don't really know what to expect tomorrow, so I might as well be well awake for it."

A/N: I write slowly and infrequently. I won't be updating this story quickly, but barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will finish it. If you see any mistakes or inconsistencies, please tell me about them.


	2. A lucky Shot

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything from Wizards of the Coast. I am not profiting from this.

Chapter 2

On Saturday morning, Harry woke up to a very strange sound. It sounded almost like singing. None of the Dursleys sang, so Harry was very confused until he remembered he was no longer at the Dursleys. He quickly dressed himself in jeans and a t-shirt before poking his head out the door to see one of the oddest sights in his life. There on the steps was Mr. Parkinson singing a tune as he bounced down the stairs looking at something, which Harry assumed was also traveling down the stairs. Taking a closer look he saw that Mr. Parkinson and Slinky were both watching a slinky traveling down the steps. Soon the two began dancing circles around the slinky as it continued resolutely descending the stairs, at least until it reached the very last stair before the first floor, where it stopped. David seemed very disappointed. "Why does it never go all the way down when I do it?" Looking up he saw Harry, and immediately said, "Oh, um… I'm terribly sorry if I woke you. I was… What would you like for breakfast?" He seemed rather embarrassed about being caught, so Harry decided to let it go and file the information away in his mind for later.

"Actually sir, I've grown rather used to making breakfast in the morning, so I was about to ask you the same thing."

David seemed a little surprised but Slinky was completely shocked. "Why would Mister Harry Potter be thinking he would be making breakfast and not Slinky? Slinky would love to be making breakfast for everyone."

"I didn't mean to offend you. It's just an old habit. I'm sorry."

"No apologies. Slinky will be serving breakfast today, but Mister Harry Potter can help later if he asks." Harry nodded and all of them proceeded to breakfast. It was not long into the meal that Harry noticed something move out of the corner of his eye. He would have ignored it if it weren't for the fact that it moved to a position almost directly across the table from him. Pretending not to notice until he could be sure of what it was, he simply continued eating. It wasn't until a minute later when everyone was seated that Harry saw the blur move again. He felt as though things were moving in slow motion when a spell flew from the blur, which took the appearance of a man as soon as the spell left his wand. Fortunately or not, Harry had years of experience dodging unfriendly spells, vicious bludgers, and other nasty things. He moved his head out of the path of the spell before drawing his own wand and leveling it at the intruder. "Expelliarmus!" He shouted, but the intruder was much too fast for Harry's spell. Harry was preparing his next spell when he heard the intruder say, "That's enough. You dodged well, but you shouted your spell, your aim was sloppy, and you settled for a simple disarming charm while being attacked by an unknown hostile force. I have it on good authority that you know better spells than that one, so why did you choose it?" He spoke with a rough voice, one that sounded almost like a growl.

Perplexed, Harry answered, "It worked well enough against Voldemort." This simple statement caused the Parkinsons to flinch, and the stranger to raise an eyebrow. Harry regarded the man carefully. He appeared to be fairly old, but he carried himself with an authority and a confidence that Harry had rarely seen. His hair was grey, and his face slightly wrinkled. The man's eyes had the look of one who had seen the carnage of war and not come out unmoved.

David quickly replied as he and the others returned to their seats after having taken cover, "Leo, would you please refrain from throwing spells around at the table, and Harry, would you please refrain from using the Dark Lord's name?"

"Would the Death Eaters wait for you to finish your breakfast if they came knocking on your door?" Leo asked a little loudly. "Would they care if they spoiled your morning? I'm here to train this boy, and I needed to know if he could handle a surprise attack." Turning to Harry, he asked, "Did you know I was there?"

"I didn't know what it was. All I could see was a funny blur. I just kept an eye on it and dodged when I saw your spell."

"Good. That was your first lesson. Finish eating and meet me on the third floor." Leo simply walked slowly away to the stairs. David then turned to Harry. "If you hadn't guessed, that was Leo. I didn't expect him today or I would have warned you. Mad-Eye Moody learned his motto from him because of all the stunts like the one he pulled this morning." His last statement sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

Harry quickly finished and made his way to the third floor. Before arriving at the top of the stairs, Harry saw yet another spell fly his way. This one struck his shoulder as he attempted to dodge and maintain his balance at the same time. The pain it caused him made him realize that it was the stinging hex. Looking up he saw Leo standing at the top of the stairs looking emotionless. "You should have been expecting that one. Hurry up. We've got a long day ahead of us." He led Harry, who was still rubbing his shoulder trying to remember how to dispel the hex, into the ballroom which appeared to have been configured into a fairly large dueling and training area. "We shouldn't need this much space for our first week, but once we start working on your magic it might not be enough. Before I train you we need to get a few things out of the way. First, you will address me as 'Sir' until I give you permission to do otherwise. Second, you'll be teaching everything you learn here to the young Miss Parkinson. That way anyone trying to follow what tiny trail I left for them will come to the conclusion that I tutored her, and not you. Understood?" Harry nodded.

"Now we need to discuss the rumors about you. I personally believe most to be untrue, but I've seen some pretty strange things. Did you destroy an entire colony of dragons invading France at the age of three?" Harry's eyes widened, and then he chuckled.

"Sir, I can almost guarantee you that any rumors about anything I did before I came to Hogwarts are greatly exaggerated if they have any truth at all in them."

Leo nodded as though he had expected this. "I thought as much. I'll skip to those rumors, many of which sound equally ludicrous. Did you, at the age of eleven, take on a mountain troll with basic first year spells?

"Yeah, but all I did was jump on it to distract it. Ron levitated its club over it and dropped it on its head, which knocked it out." It wasn't one of Harry's favorite memories, but he might not have befriended Hermione if it hadn't happened. Though come to think of it, there might not have been much left of her if they hadn't thought to tell her about the troll.

"Did you also successfully bypass a number of traps designed to secure a replica of the philosopher's stone?"

"Replica? You mean it was a fake? We went through all that trouble and nearly got killed and the stone wasn't even real?" Harry's anger began to show despite him trying to maintain his calm. Leo on the other hand, had a look of surprise, as he hadn't believed that Harry had actually bypassed any of those traps. Of course, he also wanted to believe that those traps weren't there in the first place, but several students had reported seeing a massive three headed dog to their parents, so it was bound to be at least partially true.

"You didn't really think that a man of over six centuries would trust anyone else with the secret to his long life, would you? Albus may be very clever, but Nicholas wouldn't have survived so long without learning how to protect what is his. He's forgotten more about magic than most people ever dream of learning, and he remembers more about it than anyone else living. If my sources are correct, it was part of an attempt to capture a spy that Dumbledore publicized his temporary guardianship of the stone. Flamel only agreed because he wanted to see who would be silly enough to believe such a thing. The next rumor I only ask for my amusement. Did you actually find the chamber of secrets?"

"Yeah, I found it. There was a sixty foot long basilisk hiding down there." And a giant statue of Salazar Slytherin, a lot of water, bones, and even shed skins.

Leo looked irritated. "I am not here to play games. No twelve year old boy could possibly survive an encounter with a mature basilisk of any length, let alone one that large."

Now it was Harry's turn to be annoyed. "Look, sir, I very nearly didn't survive. If Fawkes hadn't shown up and healed me, we wouldn't be here. I stabbed the bloody snake with the sword of Gryffindor and got a fang in my arm for my troubles." Harry rolled up his sleeve revealing an ugly scar from where the tooth had entered his arm. "I used that same tooth to destroy Tom Riddle's diary so it would stop using Ginny's life to come back."

The older man's face suddenly paled. "You say a diary was attempting to remove someone's life in order to reincarnate… Who, exactly?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. If you rearrange the letters they spell out 'I am Lord Voldemort.' The diary was trying to bring back his sixteen year old self."

Leo conjured a chair and sat down, then placed a hand to his forehead muttering, "I can't believe it. The bastard actually made a doppelganger's diary." Looking up to Harry once more he said, "It sounds like what you destroyed was a very dark object that hasn't been very popular in recent centuries. From your description I can only assume that he actually succeeded in creating a doppelganger's diary. It preserves a sentient copy of one's memories when done properly. However, anyone who uses the diary risks losing their life to restore life to the diary. There's only been one known occasion of this happening while the creator was still alive, and the two wiped each other out in a bid for power. That's one of the reasons it lost popularity. The other is that when a wizard isn't powerful enough, they simply move all of their memories to the diary instead of copying them. Tell me, did you harvest the basilisk afterwards?"

Harry was still absorbing the information when he realized the basilisk was probably worth quite a bit. "No sir. I haven't gone back there."

"Hmph." Clearly the brat wasn't getting by on his own intelligence. "We'll talk about that later. It's yours by right of conquest, and if it really was old enough to become that lon, it will still be in top quality for years to come. Next rumor. Did you aid in the escape of the accused murderer Sirius Black in your third year?"

Harry's blood went cold at this, but maybe this person would actually listen to him. "I only helped him escape because he's innocent! It was Peter Pettigrew that betrayed my parents, and he got away again that night."

"Well that certainly explains why Black never got his day in court then. I don't have to ask if you won the Triwizard Tournament, I heard that one live on the wireless. I do have to ask if the Dark Lord is really back, and if he is, how did he do it?"

Harry looked down a bit as he remembered that night again. "He's back. He took his father's bones, his servant's hand, and my blood. He looked like some hideously deformed baby before the ritual, now he looks like a cross between a snake and a man." Harry grew quiet and shivered as he once again relived that horrid night.

Leo regarded him with curiosity for several long moments. "Finally something I didn't know. I'll have to do some research on that ritual. Do you feel any lingering effects?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really sir. My scar hurts a little more often now, but I think that's just because he has a body again."

"Your scar hurts? Do you know what causes it?"

Harry nodded. "Usually it's just when he's nearby, or when he has a strong emotion. There have been a couple times when I saw what he was doing in my sleep, and it would hurt a lot then."

Leo looked pensive. "I may be mistaken, it's been some time since I studied the details of such things, but your situation sounds like you and the Dark Lord have an open conduit between your magic. If I am correct, keep it a secret from everyone unless you know they can keep your secrets from him. One of the first things I will teach you is the art of occlumency. Before that, I will teach you legilimency. It's far easier to block people from your mind if you know how they can get in. Any questions?"

Harry had several, but chose only one for now. "Um, what do you mean I have an open conduit between Voldemort and I?"

"Having a conduit between two people's magic isn't rare, but it's almost never noticed. In most circumstances it's a small conduit, so there is very little effect until one of the people involved dies. Also, with the relatively small number of wizards compared to muggles, the odds of having a conduit with another magic user is also low. Usually they occur between muggles, and with so little magic between the two, not much happens. Sometimes they'll see each other in dreams, or get a flash of insight into what the other is doing, like you've experienced. Muggles have mistakenly referred to this as being "soul mates", but it has nothing to do with souls. You on the other hand seem to break rules no matter how obscure, and have an open conduit between yourself and the Dark Lord. All magic conduits are one way, but that way can change. I believe currently it's flowing toward you, but should he become aware of it, he may begin to reverse the flow. If either of you dies, the other automatically receives all of the magic from the other, so I would prefer if you didn't snuff it anytime soon. The only known way to alter the flow of a conduit is through a contest of wills between the people involved, and it seems as though you regularly defeat him in those. On the downside, there will be times when you see through his eyes, feel what he feels, and possibly even want what he desires. Both occlumency and legilimency will aid you in not only seeing these things only when you want, but to determine if what you are seeing is true. Your training will begin now."

Leo proceeded to banish a number of fist sized stones, one to each corner of the room, and placed one near the door. All of them remained where they were placed despite gravity's efforts. "Time turners are heavily restricted by the ministry, and I'm not permitted to use one for training. These aren't known by the ministry, or they would be even more heavily restricted for different reasons." He placed his hand over the one at the door and it began to glow. This glow was soon shared by all of the stones in the room. "These stones are funny little things. One of the first attempts at immortality, made by the Egyptians. They stop the effects of time in a limited area. Your body will cease to age as long as these stones are active, but as you can see, we can still move. I think all they do is make everything move at incredible speeds inside, while maintaining the effect of normal time outside. If we were to spend eight hours of real time in these wards, we would have aged mentally nearly eight years, and all of that while barely getting hungry. Of course, no one could power these stones for that long, and I don't know what would happen if they did, but they will ensure that we have all the time we need to get you trained. I can show you how to use them before you teach these skills to Pansy. Let's begin."

For hours Leo taught Harry how to break into the mind of another. Longer hours were spent practicing against Leo, who declared that Harry would finish only when he was successful. At first Harry had thought it to be a simple task, but once he began he realized just how fortified the man's mind was. The trick was both focus and willpower. It took focus to initiate legilimency, and willpower to get anywhere with it. It was also one of the few magics best done without a wand. The core of a wand ordinarily focused and strengthened the magic being cast, and the same was true with legilimency, but because of the nature of legilimency, it also made it difficult to view or focus on another's memories and thoughts. Occlumency on the other hand, could be aided by a wand, but only indirectly. There were spells designed to temporarily obfuscate the mind, and a few to hide it entirely. A skilled legilimens could bypass these easily, so they were only used by the most paranoid of individuals. Occlumency too was all about focus, though the best occlumens could appear to have no mind at all, or as little as they wanted to share. The biggest trick to occlumency was to recognize the signs of someone in your mind, then either removing them from it, or leading them where you wanted them to look.

Harry's first success with legilimency came both from desperation and irritation. Having grown quite tired of hearing, "You have to want it," and, "Focus your mind," he looked Leo dead in the eyes and with a surge of willpower, felt as though he had fallen through them into the older man's head. He was quite lost with all the images swirling around, and soon found himself sitting on the floor of the training room.

"It's about bloody time you got in. Now do it again, and _stay focused_. You need to be able to see my memories as well as your own perception so that you can stay standing. It should be almost like thinking inside the other person's head. Again." What the aging man didn't tell Harry was that he was shocked at how soon his success came. Leo had been slowly but steadily lowering his own mental defenses until Harry could succeed, but he hadn't expected it for another hour or two.

It took Harry a little longer to repeat his earlier success, but each time he did it became noticeably easier to do so. He still had to bypass some very powerful resistance to enter the other man's mind, but he was doing so much more regularly. When Harry could successfully find specific memories quickly and undetected, he was allowed to stop for the day. The memories Leo usually had him looking for were from his own training. Apparently Leo had learned from the Aurors, Hit Wizards, Curse Breakers, Warders, and even the Unspeakables. Harry didn't mention anything, but even he noticed that this man had clearly been intent on destruction, though Harry wasn't quite sure why.

It was a truly odd sensation to be finished after all that time. His mind was exhausted, yet his body felt as though it had just finished breakfast not even half an hour ago, which was probably true. Leo deactivated the rune stones and turned to Harry. "You can teach Pansy legilimency against you later, after I teach you occlumency." Harry paled a little at the thought of other people attempting to invade his mind. "Don't worry. I've known the Parkinsons for a while now, and if they want you on their side, you can bet that none of them would betray you. You're also the first person to get into my head in over sixty years, so don't worry about anyone seeing what I find either. That," he paused, as though this was hard for him to say, "is a lot more than I expected from you, but you still took too long. I expect better next time. Now comes the fun part," Leo paused and gave a grin that nearly scared Harry, "physical training. You can't do this properly with those runes active, and your head probably wants a break by now anyway."

If Harry thought his mental workout was tiring, he definitely preferred it to his physical torment. Quidditch only did so much to build his muscles, and that was only enough to keep attached to his broom at high speeds doing what Harry called "flying" and most people called "suicidal". When he asked why the physical training was necessary, Leo responded, "Because most wizards don't bother strengthening their bodies. They do everything by magic, and they can get tired easily from physical exertion. In a firefight, most wizards are utterly useless after only a minute or two, especially if they have to dodge with any frequency. Your magic will aid your body to a certain extent, but you still need to be fit to survive like the best."

Harry nodded. It made sense. "Will this help my magic get stronger as well then?"

"No. Your magic will only become stronger naturally, but that is a conversation for a later day."

Harry was miserable by lunch. True, he felt that this day had been very productive so far, but his entire body was screaming from the torture otherwise known as calisthenics. He was quite certain that whoever thought of the concept was a sadist, and was also convinced that Leo too was a sadist. It took nearly four hours before he could move properly again, after which Leo began occlumency training. Harry could quickly see the wisdom in teaching legilimency first. Knowing how to enter someone's mind, he could guess how to detect the presence of an intruder, and quickly forced him out. His triumph was short lived though, as he soon felt the presence once again sifting through his mind. This only went on for a few hours before Harry was competent enough to prevent entrance into his mind completely while he was focused. By the time Harry could subconsciously block an intruder, he was mentally exhausted once more. He had long ago lost track of how long they had been practicing, and his watch was no help. It had insisted on declaring the time to be a little past seven o' clock ever since the stones were activated again. His only reassurance was that once he taught Pansy these same techniques they wouldn't have to work their minds so extensively.

After teaching Harry how to charge the runes Leo left with the promise of returning on Monday to continue the training. He would return every other day for the remainder of the summer with Harry teaching Pansy what he learned on the days he wasn't there. When Leo informed Pansy of this arrangement, as well as the next day's subject, she fired a stinging hex at the man. Harry was surprised at her gall and more surprised when the man redirected the curse directly into his face. This drew a number of sniggers from all who witnessed the event. "I thought Barty Crouch Jr. shouted 'constant vigilance' at you all of last year. You should have been ready for that."

* * *

**Sunday**

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Pansy was unhappy at the thought of Harry teaching her. All it took was her telling him. He managed to dodge the stinging hex she aimed at his nether regions, "Just keeping you on your toes," but he hadn't expected her to trip him as he walked into the room. How that was supposed to keep him _on_ his toes was anyone's guess. When she saw him move to activate the runes, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"These runes sort of stop time. Or they speed up time, or both at once. It was weird, but when I turn these on we'll be able to do this before hardly any time passes out there. I don't really know how long it took me to do it, but it seemed like ages."

"I mean how are you charging those? Those clearly take a lot of power. I can see that without even trying to power it myself, but you did it like it was nothing. How did you do it?"

Harry was surprised. Leo didn't seem put off at all about the power it took, and Harry certainly didn't feel anything when he charged it. It just felt natural. "I just do, it's not hard. I don't know exactly how it works, but it does. Why?"

She looked intently at him as though deciding something. "I may have a business proposition for you, if you really think that's easy."

Harry was once again confused about her sudden change in attitude. Every time she discussed runes she became very serious, but otherwise she seemed to dislike being alone with him. "What sort of business proposition?"

"We can discuss that when we've finished, but right now I'm supposed to try and get into your head."

Harry had taken Leo's advice for teaching Pansy the mind magics and gone a little easier on her than Leo did on Harry. Neither of them really needed to learn legilimency except as a point of reference, and if Pansy could keep Harry out of her head when he put effort into it, then she could keep nearly anyone out without trying. Harry quickly tried to deny that he was that good, but Leo silenced him and said, _"Kid, I came here expecting very little from you. I expected you to give up. I've trained my mind for years against some of the best practitioners, including Albus Dumbledore, and you broke past my defenses accidentally. When you did it on purpose it was all I could do to keep you out and now you're past even that. Only you and Albus can look me straight in the eye and keep me out of your mind without even thinking about it. I've seen the truth behind the rumors, and I won't hold back in teaching you. If you fail, it will be entirely your fault, and not because you couldn't do it."_

When Harry had decided Pansy had been reasonably successful at legilimency she asked, "Do you ever do anything besides chores?" Harry had only shown her bits of his life that he considered unimportant. They were mostly chores at the Dursleys, the occasional potions class, the infamous memory of Snape the boggart, and Harry's personal favorite, Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. When she saw Snape, she was so surprised that she had trouble extricating herself from Harry's mind, and couldn't stop laughing for quite some time. She chuckled a bit at Malfoy's predicament, but she made it clear that had he not deserved it, it wouldn't have been funny. Well, not very funny. Both of them agreed to take time to rest before continuing the lesson, and Harry could tell that she was not looking forward to having him in her mind.

* * *

On their break, Pansy led Harry to what appeared to be a workshop. Harry could see a collection of jewelry, a few rolls of parchment, a number of writing and carving materials for various surfaces, and he was sure there was a lot hidden in the various cupboards and closets on the one side of the room. "This is where I do all my runecrafting. Mum was always drawing runes for work when I was little, and she started teaching me as soon as I was old enough to ask. When I was nine, she bought me a carving kit so I could work on a more permanent material than parchment. I started with leather, then moved to clay, then sandstone, then harder things like marble and steel. When I was twelve, I started working on something most people never try, because they quit before they ever make it to stone. I started carving on curved surfaces."

Pansy walked over to one of the closets and opened it, revealing an enormous closet apparently dedicated to bowls. There must have been hundreds in there, each one completely covered in runes. Some were covered in the same rune all over, others had patterns, and still others had no two runes that looked alike. There were big bowls, small bowls, and some as big as his cauldron. The runes themselves were carved with varying degrees of accuracy, some being rather mangled, while others looked better than those he had seen on Hermione's homework.

"Carving a rune on a curve is one of the hardest things to do, because the depth of the rune has to be perfect at every point. Mum didn't think I would ever try it, because she knew she couldn't ever charge any complex item. I only learned it because I was too stubborn to give up after I learned that, like my parents, I am weak. For most things, that wouldn't be a problem, I could just find someone else to charge them for me. But for anything really interesting, it would take far more power than most people ever have. That's where you come in."

Harry quickly tried to deny that he was anything special, but Pansy was having none of it.

"I can't tell you how frustrating it is to be able to design some of these items and not be able to make them work." Harry simply couldn't ignore the look of hope in her eyes as she looked at him.

"I, uh, haven't ever done anything like this before, so what do I do?" He watched as she smiled and rushed over to a cabinet and pulled out a sheet of parchment and started writing on it. It looked like scribbling to Harry, but it seemed to mean something to her. When she finished, she set the parchment on the table to dry, and the quill in the center of the parchment. Harry could see that she had written two rings of runes, one around the other, and set the quill in the center.

"You know how to power the rune stones upstairs, right? It's the same thing. You simply flood these runes with magic, and they do what they're written to do. This outer ring allows the enchantments on the paper to manifest in whatever object resides in the middle, the inner ring represents the enchantments for the object to hold. Some of them are a bit technical, but this set would enchant this quill to never run out of ink, and the ink will dry instantly on the parchment it writes on. It would be good for practice, and you can keep this one. Go on, try it."

Harry nodded and placed his right hand on the runes as he was told, and charged it in the same way that he charged the stones. The runes began to glow a strong golden color, which the quill soon began to share. When Pansy saw the quill glow she said "Stop," and Harry stopped. She picked it up and examined it, then scribbled a bit with it to see if it worked properly. When the quill worked as expected, she was quite pleased. "That's how you enchant an item. All you have to remember is to stop when the item is finished, that's when the whole thing glows and not just the runes. Here, you can keep this one. Do you want to try something a little harder?"

"How do you know if something is harder to charge if you have a hard time charging the easy things?" Harry received a nasty glare for several seconds before she bothered to answer.

"Because I've been studying this for years and I can tell just by looking how difficult some of these combinations will be. If a combination is unusual, it can be difficult to charge even if there aren't many runes. If there are a lot of runes, there needs to be a lot of power to make all of them work. Different materials have different resistances to magic, which is why goblin steel is so popular for weapons. Even a mundane goblin steel blade can be better than magic steel blades, and goblin steel can hold enchantments far more easily than materials like iron. Stone also holds magic particularly well, which is why they are frequently used for temporary wards. Most pensieves are stone as well, at least on the inside. Some of them are decorated on the outside either to hide what they are or just to look pretty." Pansy paused for a moment. "Do you have any ideas that you would like to see happen?"

"I really don't know. I've never thought about it before. Could you make anything to keep the twins from pranking me?"

Pansy smiled. She had made something like that for herself already. "I can make a ring that will render most of their pranked sweets useless, but it only works on ingested items. It'll take a few minutes to write out, but since you can charge it I can be thorough. What kind of ring would you like?"

Harry selected a simple gold ring so as not to bother Remus. A glance at the rune circles Pansy was writing revealed that this would be a lot more complex than the quill. "That seems like a lot of effort just to nullify prank sweets."

Pansy didn't look up from her drawing. "Well, a lot of prank potions from any vendor make use of venoms as a key ingredient. Most of the product is an attempt to make the venom do something amusing instead of lethal. This ring is really designed to protect you from anything like venoms, even pranks, so you don't have to worry so much about what you eat. And you won't have to worry about getting bitten by snakes," Pansy added with a grin, almost pleased with her double speak.

"I doubt any snake can compare to the one that bit me in second year," Harry muttered quietly, but apparently not quietly enough.

"Second year? That snake didn't bite you, it went after Justin. Most of the school saw that."

"Actually, at the end of second year, I got bit by the basilisk hiding in the chamber of secrets. On the bright side, I'm immune to most venoms according to madam Pomfrey, but it never hurts to have extra protection."

"How can you be immune to venoms? Being bit by a basilisk would just kill you, not make you stronger." She wasn't sure she believed him in the first place, but at least he had a knack for telling outrageous stories. He was even better than Lockhart.

"Well, it nearly did. Apparently basilisk venom overpowers all sorts of things like diseases, but phoenix tears can prevent and even heal damage if they're applied quickly enough. Madam Pomfrey said when they mixed together in my blood they were trying to cancel each other out, but my magic twisted both of them to benefit me. I had to make regular visits to the hospital wing until she determined that my life was not only no longer at risk, but that I was immunized against nearly everything. The original tears and venom are long gone, but apparently my magic keeps the best of both effects going."

Pansy's eyes widened. This was a bit more detailed than the stories boys told to get attention. "So," She paused, not entirely sure what to say. "Where is it now?"

"It's dead. I killed it." Harry said with a smirk.

"Do you really expect me to believe you killed a basilisk when you were twelve years old?"

"I personally find it a lot easier to believe that than killing a dark lord as a baby, and yes I really did. It's still sitting under the school. That's what was petrifying all the students that year. How much do you think I could get for one that's about sixty feet long?"

Pansy stared at him open mouthed. Either he was a brilliant liar, or he killed one of the most fearsome beasts in existence as a child. Most adults would have soiled their robes just hearing about a local basilisk, and Harry killed one. "How did you do it then?"

"I stabbed it through the skull with the sword of Gryffindor."

"Now I know you're lying."

Harry rolled up his sleeve to reveal the scar it gave him. "It lodged a fang in my arm for it, and if Fawkes hadn't showed up I would have died down there. The sword is hanging in Dumbledore's office, and if you still don't believe me I can take you down there myself when we go back. Leo said we would discuss harvesting it later."

Pansy was quite glad she had finished the rune circles, for her hand was starting to shake at the realization that one of the deadliest creatures known had been living in the same building as her for two years. "I'll take you up on that. That's not the kind of tale I can just believe to be true, no matter who you are."

"Right," Harry said, expecting as much.

While Harry had never been one to wear jewelry, he couldn't easily deny that it would be useful to have some with protective benefits. Plus if it worked even on some of the Weasley twins pranks, it would definitely be worth having. He didn't notice the ring take any more effort than the quill did, but he could almost feel something when he put it on. He'd never really felt anything like it before, except when he touched his broom. Putting it off as nothing, he simply turned to Pansy. "I'll thank you ahead of time for this. So, thanks."

"Not all of these things are going to be yours, Potter. Remember that you're helping me do something that I can't do myself, but if I sell any, I'll let you have a cut of the profit, say thirty percent?"

"Only thirty? I thought people who could finish an enchantment were hard to find."

"That's for really powerful items, you dolt. It doesn't take Merlin to make a sneakoscope work after all. If you hadn't come along I would have blackmailed Greengrass into working with me. She plans on doing exactly what I'm asking of you anyway. Besides, Runecrafters are even harder to find than Enchanters."

Harry nodded. He supposed that was true, because people who had lots of power tended to be publicized a lot, but power came naturally, and skill didn't. Wizards had long showed their disdain for doing anything without magic, and all of the tools Harry could see in here were hand operated. "Deal then. I don't really need the money, but it would be nice to earn it myself for a change. Is there anything else you want to do while we're on a break? We should be getting back soon."

Pansy sighed, she dreaded the upcoming lesson. Her expression soon turned thoughtful. "This one should be a lot harder, but you don't have to worry much about overcharging it." She placed her hand on one of the cupboards for a moment before opening it and pulling out a large stone bowl with runes carved all the way around it. Harry recognized it as a pensieve. "This is something I was working on to get my mastery in runes after I graduate. Technically it doesn't have to work, but it's sort of a rite of passage for any aspiring rune master."

"So how do you want to keep doing all this? You just make the objects and I enchant them?" He asked as he began to charge the pensieve. This time he actually felt a very slight pulling sensation in his hand, but it still didn't take long before the bowl emitted the same glow the other items did. He noticed Pansy looking at him oddly.

"Aren't you feeling tired at all? You've done a lot of magic in a very short time, if you're tired you really need to rest."

"No, I'm fine. You didn't answer my question though."

"I'm still a little surprised that you can do that without being tired at all. Can't I just ask you to charge something when I finish it?"

"Can I request an item at any time when it's not inconvenient to you?"

He saw the hopeful look appear on her face again. "Is that a yes?"

"I think the answer to both questions are going to be the same."

"Yes!" She said excitedly before catching herself and blushing a little. "I mean, very well. I believe this arrangement could work. And now that I'm in a better mood this will probably be the best time for me to learn occlumency so I'll be going upstairs now." Pansy left the room a little quickly leaving Harry to wonder what he had just seen.

* * *

"Why aren't you trying to push me out of your mind?"

"You're in my mind? When did you start? I can't feel anything. You'd better not be looking at anything embarrassing!"

Though the lesson had started, Harry wasn't sure if it was going well at all. He at least knew when someone was in his head. Or maybe Leo had been going easy on him. That was a scary thought.

"I just started a moment ago, and I'm looking through your senses. I figured it wouldn't be embarrassing that way. It's awfully weird looking at myself though."

"Oh, I can kind of feel it now." Harry allowed himself to be removed from her mind, even if it was a slow process.

"I never knew seeing without glasses was that clear."

"Are you sure you weren't snooping in my head?"

"Technically I was."

"You know what I mean!"

"If you'd like I could demonstrate what it would be like for me to rummage around in your head."

"I didn't tell you to do that!"

"Well then why can't you trust me? What have I ever done to you?"

Pansy's mouth opened for another retort, but she could not find one. He had never really given her a reason not to trust him, and she had done this to him already. She simply didn't wasn't to admit her fears that he would see her mind and be disgusted. She had perfected illusions because she had to hide herself in order to tolerate Draco… Wait, she could use that. "You're always rotten to Draco."

"I wasn't rotten to him the first time we met. I also can't recall starting any of the arguments we've had. He seems to think we're archrivals or something. It's tiring really."

"But the way he goes on about you it's like you're always out to get him. Like when you turned him in for staying out of bed while he was muttering about dragons, and when you tried to make him go to some stupid duel at midnight…" Harry cut her off.

"He went to McGonagall after curfew on his own. That was his stupid decision. As for the duel, that was his pathetic idea of a set up. We went there, walked past both Filch _and_ Peeves, and made it back up to our common room without getting caught." Ok, so it hadn't been quite as casual as he made it sound, but neither he nor Ron got caught. "He's also come looking for trouble every year on the train, and you saw what happened when he tried to curse me in my back. The only thing I ever did to him was to tell him I'd be friendly with whoever I damn well pleased, and he didn't like that."

Damn. She should have known Draco had started most of that. "What about his house elf? He said you set his house elf free. I know on the surface it sounds ridiculous because only the master of an elf can set them free, but he swore for weeks that it was all your fault."

"Actually that one was kind of my fault, but they were treating him really badly and he was trying so hard to save my life, even if he did cause a lot of trouble in the process. Also if it weren't for him I would have missed the second task of the tournament entirely."

"What was he trying to save you from?"

"He knew Malfoy's father was planning to have the chamber of secrets opened and he wanted to keep me safe from whatever was inside. Should we continue?"

"Yeah."

Harry didn't go as easily on Pansy teaching her occlumency as he did legilimency. While Leo was fairly certain that she would never be as good as Harry, he had to teach her as much as possible. Neither of them could keep track of how long they worked, but it was a very long time. Not long after she began keeping him out subconsciously, he broke in again. At first he thought it was simply her being inconsistent, but then he noticed the thoughts flowing smoothly and controlled, like when he directed her to specific memories and thoughts. He saw how she and Malfoy had grown up together. How he had been her first friend because her parents wanted the power and prestige that would be associated with the Malfoys. How he slowly drifted away as he grew up, and Pansy stayed with him in the hopes that the boy she once knew would return. How she wanted to hex Harry and his friends for all the indignations inflicted upon her friend, and how it felt now to discover that he had been lying to her about nearly everything. He saw how much it hurt when Draco had celebrated the return of the Dark Lord. The fear when Lucius had requested that they join the Death Eaters. Sadness at the thought of losing the one person who had always been there for her to his father's warped ideals, and nervousness at the thought of becoming close to the fabled 'Boy-Who-Lived'. He watched as she showed him Draco's transformation from being just a bigoted snob to being a true junior Death Eater all for the sake of power and glory. It was shocking to Harry, who had never seen Draco as anything other than a pureblood supremacist, to see how much of what he hated was a result of his father. Harry felt a bit of pain similar to a headache as he was forced harshly from her mind, much harder than any previous time.

Harry remained silent. Not only could he think of nothing appropriate to say, something told him that he should not be the first to speak. Unfortunately he really didn't know what else to do, so he simply felt terribly awkward about the whole situation. They only sat there for a little while though before Pansy asked in a tired voice, "Do I pass?"

Sensing there was more than one question in that, he thought very seriously about it. "Yeah, you pass." He watched as she left and decided not to pursue her. If she had more to say, she would say it. Left up to his own devices for the foreseeable evening, Harry continued reading in the library before turning in early.

* * *

**Monday**

"Come on Potter. I've got things to do and it's pointless trying to teach someone who isn't there. Move it." When they had once again reached the training room Leo conjured up two chairs. How the straight backed wooden chairs could feel comfortable was beyond Harry, but he wasn't about to complain. "There are a few goblins that are highly interested in your basilisk. They agreed to do nearly anything you want with it, with the promise that anything you don't want to keep can be given to them, for the appropriate costs of course. If you keep only a little, they'll pay, and if you keep most of it, then it might cost you a bit. They want to meet you and see the snake before they finalize anything, but I know they'll give you a fair price for it. They might even give you a better price than most because of the circumstances. Anyone who can kill a creature like that commands a lot of respect from goblins, and to do it so young will only impress them more."

"So all I really need to worry about is how to get them in and out of Hogwarts?" He wasn't sure what he would do with such an enormous snake, but he had time to think about it.

"Right. Make sure you keep the skeleton. Whenever a witch or wizard slays a beast that dangerous, it's tradition to keep and display at least the skull, but most will display the whole thing. What you do with the rest is up to you. I haven't made any progress on that ritual the Dark Lord used, but I do have a few leads I'm working on. As for training, you've done better than I expected, and now I expect better from you than most people. For now I will be teaching you about magic."

"Haven't I been learning magic at Hogwarts?" Harry received a long glare for his comment. It was rather unnerving.

"They teach you spells at Hogwarts. They don't teach magic because there aren't many wizards trusted to use magic. Spells use magic, but they have a predetermined effect. Because of that, they are much easier to use, control, teach, and regulate. There are very few people who ever learn how to use proper magic, which is magic in its raw form. It takes much more power and control, but those who master it find spells to be much simpler to cast. Even then, magic is easier to use if you give it form. I want to cast a spell on you now that will show where your magic pools itself naturally. It will help determine the best way to teach you."

"What do you mean 'where my magic pools itself'?" Harry was trying to keep up, but obviously he had a lot of work to do.

"Your magic has to come from somewhere boy. While you can draw magic from various sources, most of it comes from you. It gathers differently in different people, but it always gathers most in three areas, the head, the heart, and the wand arm. In most people it gathers in one place more than the others, which leads to that persons particular aptitudes toward magic and spells. The head is used for many transfiguration spells, illusions, mind magic, and a few other spells. The heart is used for spells fueled by emotions, like the patronus charm and the unforgiveable curses. The wand arm is used for nearly everything else. Incidentally, the wand arm is almost always the right arm, regardless of which hand a person favors. There's nothing wrong with a person who uses a wand in their left hand, but it's rare. If I know where you pull your magic from, it might be easier to teach you how to draw on it properly to enhance your spells and let you use magic."

"Alright then sir. I'm curious myself."

Leo waved his wand over Harry and frowned. He repeated this motion two more times, though his frown remained. "Have you ever done any large scale spell work?"

"Uh… What would you consider large scale?" Harry knew that Pansy considered charging that pensieve to be impressive, but Harry hadn't even blinked at it, so he really wouldn't know what was normal.

"I mean any complex spell with a large effect, or maybe casting a ward. Anything?"

"Well, in my third year I cast a patronus to keep away a hundred or so dementors, and just yesterday I charged a pensieve. Would either of those count?"

"Yes, yes they would." Leo said a little distractedly. "Did you feel tired at all after you did those things?"

"No sir. I felt fine. I did need a bit of chocolate after facing the dementors though."

"Well, at least I didn't get a faulty reading then. You have more magic than most wizards will ever dream of, and you're not even twenty yet. I can see that a small portion of your magic is directly related to the conduit between you and the Dark Lord, but most of it is yours, and growing. Overall, that should be a good thing, but for the purposes of training it'll be damn annoying. With that much power at your disposal, you've probably never felt it gather, have you?"

"Well, I sort of noticed something when I charged up that pensieve, but it wasn't much."

Leo nodded and banished another set of runes to the corners of the room, and one next to the time dilation rune. "These are anti-magic shields. Send a spell at one and it absorbs it. Send a powerful burst of magic at it, and it won't go through. If you unloaded all your magic into the shield, you might succeed in overloading and collapsing it, but it still wouldn't get through." He powered the shields around the room. "I want you to cast the strongest stunning hex you can at the wall. Repeat it until you can feel yourself casting the spell."

Harry nodded and started casting spells at the wall. It was mildly amusing to watch the spell simply stop an inch in front of the wall, leaving nothing but a faint ripple behind. He cast the spell with more power every time, but no matter how hard he tried, it still didn't feel difficult at all.

While Leo was impressed that the boy could cast for nearly twenty minutes with no problem, he was starting to get impatient. Harry could do simple drills on his own time, unsupervised. It was Leo's job to teach him how to become truly effective. From the memories of Harry's exploits, he came up with a possible motivation. It would be risky, and possibly quite painful, but if it worked it could save him a lot of time. "Stop now." He growled. Harry stopped and looked at him. "Clearly you're not trying hard enough. I want you to stop wasting my time, so let's try a bit of alternative motivation." With a wave of his wand, a very confused looking Hermione Granger appeared.

"Harry," she said nervously, "What's goi…" Harry watched in horror as Leo turned his wand on her, the tip glowing a sickly green. "Avada…" Time seemed to slow as Harry swung his wand toward Leo, with no other thoughts on his mind than 'Stop him.' Harry unleashed his spell before Leo could finish his incantation, and it impacted with little time to spare. The older man flew into the wall and hit it hard before landing painfully on the ground, while Hermione vanished with a faint trace of smoke. Harry was now very confused. Not only had his friend just appeared and vanished, but his tutor attempted to kill her! And then he had cast a spell without saying anything, and it left him with no doubt as to what it meant to feel his magic. It was… exhilarating to say the very least. But the most confusing thing of all was the laughter. While he was clearly in pain, Leo was laughing. Harry wasn't laughing though, he was seething.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry shouted. "What happened to Hermione? Where'd she go? Why'd you try to kill her? And what is so funny?" He kept his wand trained on Leo, even though he seemed to be in no condition to get up.

Leo's laughter lessened a bit and he groaned in pain before maneuvering into an upright position, seated against the wall. "Because, kid. You're not even trained up yet and you cast spells for over twenty minutes. Not only that, but you still had the power to blast me into a wall stay standing and ready after. That's the first time anyone landed a hit that badly against me in nearly twelve years. And because you definitely fell for that illusion. Now turn off the wards in here and go get some help. I don't know how many bones you broke, but I'd like them fixed soon so I can help you control that power of yours." Leo laughed a bit more, but it was clear he was still in a lot of pain.

Harry was upset, but he could see why the man had done what he did. He wasn't happy about it, but he understood. As he entered the living room he encountered Rose, who was reading a book that only Hermione would consider 'light'. "Um, excuse me," Harry said quickly to get her attention. "I, uh, blasted Leo into a wall, and he asked me to get a healer, and…" She got up and cut him off.

"You blasted him into a wall? My, he is getting old isn't he. I'll go get a healer; you go back to him and do whatever he tells you to do. Quickly!" With that she rushed off and Harry left to go upstairs again. He found Leo had moved himself again, this time laying down straight on the ground.

"Oh good. You got that healer then?"

"Mrs. Parkinson is getting one, she asked me to come up here and follow your instructions."

"Well, there's not much you can do for me, except making sure I stay awake and all that. I gotta say though, you pack a real wallop when you want to. I have really got to stop underestimating you. By the way, I have something to tell you." He gestured Harry to come closer.

"Yes, sir?" Harry kneeled next to Leo, listening carefully, only to receive a stinging hex in the forehead for his trouble. "Come on. All that shouting about constant vigilance last year and you think a few broken ribs will stop me?"

Harry rubbed his forehead and muttered, "You didn't have your wand. I didn't know you could do that."

"That's what you and I will be working on later. Incidentally, the real Alastor Moody almost never yells 'constant vigilance'. He prefers sneaking up behind the aurors in training and whispering it in their ears. He likes watching 'em jump. He yelled once when all the aurors were chatting too loudly in a meeting, and that's the story everyone remembers. I think he yelled it when some junior auror was walking up stairs one time. An auror Tonks, I think. Apparently she got him with a stinging hex a bit below the belt, and he never did it to her again."

"Why is everyone so fond of the stinging hex?" Harry wondered aloud.

"It's easy to cast, and it's unpleasant to get hit with. Works wonders for keepin' cats from clawing your furniture. Not that I know that personally," he added the last bit rather hastily. It was at this moment the Rose came in with a man wearing healer's robes.

The healer spoke first. "Ah, Leo. We should really meet when you're not in need of a healer. What did you manage to do this time?"

"Well Graham, it wasn't all me this time, but I'll need an oath that you won't discuss with anyone who you met here or what happened."

"Of course. So, if it wasn't all you, then who did this?" Asked Graham.

"I told Harry not to hold back, and he blasted me into the wall. It was a wonderful example of a disarming charm though. Now fix me up so I can make him do it again."

"Do you think this will be a common occurrence?" Graham was completely failing to not look amused.

"I know it will be. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't ask so many questions though. I don't want any of this getting out."

"I understand. Your reputation would take quite the hit if it were discovered that a fourteen year old school boy knocked you off your feet. Even if he did win the Triwizard tournament." He smiled at Harry and began waving his wand over Leo. "This will only take a minute, but it won't be pleasant." Leo barely grunted as it sounded like his bones popped back in place. "I would suggest that you not take any nasty lumps like that for a few minutes, but if you do, well you know which potions you would need. I'll give you the usual, blood restoration, bone knitting, flesh growing, and a couple of pain relief potions." He gave Leo a stern look before adding, "Do not use these potions unless you know you need them. They are for mild injuries only. If you have any serious injuries, I expect you to get either myself or Eric on the floo. Is there anything else I need to look at?" Upon receiving a 'no', he smiled and said, "Alright, I'll be going then. Try not to need me too much. Good day Mrs. Parkinson." He turned to leave and was escorted out by Mrs. Parkinson.

* * *

"I take it back."

Pansy looked up from her work at this statement. "Take what back, mother?"

"When I called you crazy for even considering using Harry Potter to protect us from the Dark Lord."

"What could have possibly happened to change your mind so quickly?"

"I had to call a healer."

Pansy frowned. "How badly was Potter injured?" After all, it would be no good if he got himself killed before the Dark Lord snuffed it. And she would need to find a new partner.

"Leo had a few broken ribs and bruises. He'll be fine in a minute or two, but he seems impressed by it." Rose enjoyed the look Pansy adopted upon figuring out what happened.

"So the man who single handedly decimated Grindelwald's army was bested by a child?"

"I didn't get the whole story, but it sounded as though he let his guard down and underestimated Harry at the same time. I don't believe it will happen again anytime soon."

* * *

Meanwhile, Leo was informing Harry of why he had threatened the illusion of Hermione. "Magic responds to several things. Need is the largest force behind magic, and therefore the easiest to use magic with. The second most powerful force is will. You have to want something to happen to make it happen. When the two combine, it's much simpler to determine just how powerful someone can be. You have rarely both needed and wanted the same thing from your magic, and so you have rarely seen your own potential. You saw it when you rescued your godfather, and just now when you thought you were saving your friend. If you want to begin to truly use your power, you first need to know what it feels like. Most witches and wizards have far less power than you, and they feel nearly every spell they cast as draining. Some feel only the more advanced spells, but you have rarely used a significant portion of your magic, and have only just begun to discover your power. I will teach you to grasp the power you just felt and bend it to your will in a way that few ever learn. You can begin by recharging the ward stones and attempting to repeat what you did to me, only this time just aim at the wall."

Harry had more questions, but Leo's tone left little room for argument. Instead, he simply began blasting away at the wall again, only this time he sought to recreate the feeling from before. It took a little time, but he could feel with each casting a little more power going into each one. Once he fully identified the feeling, he sensed something else, just before he would cast a spell. Had he been looking behind him, he would have noticed that his teacher could sense the power building up. Harry was beginning to enjoy the sensation of his magic. He could feel it now. He wondered how he could have lived without this feeling before, because it was now a part of him even though he had only noticed it for a few minutes. It was as though he had found a long lost friend. He took a moment to revel in this feeling, delaying his spell a few more moments when suddenly he heard, "Stop." Letting his magic fade was vaguely disappointing for some reason.

"Now we can get to your lesson." That brought Harry up short. He thought this was his lesson, and now he was being told it was just starting?

"What lesson is that, sir?"

"I can tell you've begun to feel your magic when you cast your spells. Now I want you to look for where the magic focuses most just before you send it out. You should be able to feel where the magic wants to be." This sounded very strange to Harry. Sure magic had usually responded for him when he needed it to, but to feel where it _wanted_ to be? This was something he hadn't ever really thought of before. Unless…

"Do you mean the wand motions?" He had begun noticing recently that when one of his wand motions was a little off he could almost feel a change.

"In a way. Try it out before I explain it to you. I want to see if you can do it on your own."

So Harry brought forth his magic once again and began to cast a stunning spell at the wall, this time paying close attention to getting the motion correct. About halfway through he felt a slight tug, as though his instincts wanted him to go somewhere else. Though it was his first time paying attention to it, he recognized the feeling from when he would first learn a spell, how he would slowly correct himself each time until he could finally succeed. Out of curiosity he began again and followed where the strange 'tug' would take him. It was very similar to what he had been doing, only this time the spell was a bit brighter. Leo only nodded at his achievement.

"Only a few students ever notice that. Most will simply assume that they have become accustomed to casting it without even realizing why they cast in a specific way. What I am about to teach you is rarely taught to anyone outside of auror training or to the unspeakables. If anyone asks you where you learned it, you tell them that you figured it out on your own. If they don't know who taught you, they don't need to. Hold your wand still, but focus the magic where you would normally move your wand."

This was much easier said than done, Harry soon realized. He never knew how much he depended on the wand to focus his magic. Eventually, he visualized in his mind the wand moving, while attempting to focus his magic there, and was startled when he succeeded. In a way, it was similar to charging runes, only in this case he was charging a rune that wasn't there, and the result was a stunning spell. While it felt more powerful, it looked a bit weaker than normal. "I must be doing it wrong. It feels harder to do it this way."

"That's because it _is_ harder to do it that way, Potter." He said in his usual growl. "But doing it that way is possible whether you have a wand or not. Most spells are based off of the first set of runes ever written, the runes of magic. Magic flows more easily through them, and can be focused with precision because of them. While a great many things can be accomplished by the truly powerful, these runes allow those with substantially less power to use their magic. You're taught to use wand motions to make it natural to focus the magic there."

"What about the incantations? Do those help with the magic?"

"Only because you're told that they do and expect your spells to work with them. The real incantations have been lost for millennia. The ones used now are simply tradition. Back when Latin was a spoken language, wizards simply spoke their intentions out loud. It was mostly parlor tricks, but it was considered polite if you told people what you were doing. If one were to discover an incantation in the language of magic, yes magic had a language, then one could use the associated spell with even more efficiency. Not even Parseltongue works better for it."

The lesson continued for quite some time with Harry casting a variety of spells and learning how to focus the magic into its associated rune, or in some cases, runes. He was told that with practice, he would be able to do it as easily as most people did wand movements, and would eventually master the ability without a wand. The thought of never truly being disarmed was appealing, and he worked hard at mastering this ability.

Eventually, Leo decided Harry had things well enough in hand, and was therefore capable of explaining things to Pansy. As he readied himself to leave, Harry asked him one last question.

"Sir? Why did you make an illusion of Hermione? Why not Ron or someone else?"

Leo answered, "Because next to you, she has the largest file in the department of mysteries for a fifteen year old. Seriously, how many different ways can one person get in trouble? A troll at eleven? A botched polyjuice potion at twelve? There are potions masters who haven't managed that one. Then McGonagall staked her reputation on this girl so she could have a time turner to take all of Hogwart's classes at once. The whole department was relieved when she spent all last year helping you instead of finding new ways to change her life. Between you and me though, they're a bit worried that she'll find something even more drastic next year to make up for it."

* * *

A/N: I write slowly and infrequently. I won't be updating this story quickly, but barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will finish it. If you see any mistakes or inconsistencies, please tell me about them.

Thank you all of you who have reviewed so far.


	3. A Mother's Love

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter or his setting. I didn't create Dungeons & Dragons, though I have made quite a few characters for it.

A/N: Some of you may have guessed at this already, but I should probably make it clear. There will be no horcruxes in this story. I'm not convinced they worked in cannon, and had no reason to believe the man who claimed to have gone further down the road to immortality than anyone only attempted one method repeatedly instead of attempting several methods at once.

Chapter 3

**Tuesday**

Harry was awoken by a soft knocking on his door. That immediately ruled out Pansy, she wasn't one to knock unless he had locked the door. Still aching from his workout the previous day, he groaned, "Just a minute." Quickly he got dressed so as not to keep the knocking waiting too long.

Opening the door revealed Rose, with a somber expression on her face. "Something wrong?" He had no idea what could be going on, but then there was a lot he didn't know.

Rose took a deep breath, as though resigning herself to tell him something he might not want to hear. "I've spent some time analyzing the strange ward picked up by the auror portkey. I… I don't know how to say this, but it seems as though your mother finished her rune mastery project."

This had Harry even more confused. Everyone he knew that knew his mother told him how she was always brilliant at charms, not runes. But then, it seemed as though runes were just the sort of thing that all the smartest wizards and witches tried to figure out. "You knew my mother then?" He loved hearing about his mother from Sirius and Remus, and he was quite interested in what other people thought of her.

Rose nodded slightly. "Lily was quite popular at Hogwarts. When she asked me for help in runes, I was surprised. Most fifth years don't ask the head girl for lessons after all, they go to their teachers. It wasn't until she explained that professor Pittiman laughed at her that it made sense. She… She had this crazy idea that all magic could be blocked, if only we knew how. I almost laughed in her face, but she was so sure." Rose paused a moment, and had a look of genuine regret on her face. "I loaned her a few books, but no one expected her to succeed. Who ever heard of a way to block the killing curse with magic before?"

Harry absorbed this information in silence. He would finally learn a bit more about what happened on that terrible night, and he didn't want to miss any of it by saying something stupid.

"She spent quite a lot of time in the library researching magical barriers, alternative fields of magic and different sets of runes. She was openly mocked for even trying. The Unspeakables had publically announced that they were no longer investigating magical means to stop the killing curse over a century ago, what chance did a muggleborn teenager have of succeeding? Then she married James, and went into hiding not long after you were born…" Rose stopped for a moment to gather her composure. The story seemed rather hard on her, but she was determined to tell it anyway. "When it was announced that Voldemort was destroyed in an attack at your house, and that you weren't… I knew. I knew she had done what no one else had, despite what everyone told her. And I didn't help her. I told myself that she could never succeed and let her go her merry way. They covered it up by saying you did it, as if a baby had a better chance than a muggleborn. It made me sick. They took all of her hard work and discredited it because she was born to a non magical family."

She pulled out a small case that Harry recognized as one to carry large reports in. "With the traces of the ward still on you, I've worked out how she managed it, so this belongs to you now."

Harry accepted it gratefully, but when he opened it and began to read, it all seemed very technical. Once more he kicked himself for taking divination for the easy grade, and wished he had taken runes or something else instead. Maybe Hermione could teach him. It was a shame she was inaccessible at the moment. "How does it work? It seems pretty useful."

A flash of discomfort crossed her face before she answered. "You have to understand, Harry, that your mother didn't have much time to work on this, and it seems as though she hadn't really finished refining it, and only just got it to work. It's not like she could easily test it or anything." It seemed as though she was avoiding the question, but at Harry's look she continued. "It's a powerful blood ritual, Harry. It wouldn't take long to perform, but it is not something one should take lightly. By sacrificing some of her blood and magic, she created a barrier around you, one designed to block the killing curse. Rituals like that always have some degree of permanency, which is why it showed up on the portkey when you held it. It wasn't a ward around your home; it was around you, even if all it is now is residual magic."

Harry nodded. He had always been told it was his mother's love that had shielded him from the killing curse, but that explanation, while comforting, didn't seem right. How many husbands had died for their wives when Voldemort arrived, like his father? If it was simply love, then his mother would still be alive today. Instead, his most famous 'achievement' was entirely his mother's handiwork. Harry was nearly overwhelmed when he realized all she did for him. She broke the commonly accepted laws of magic just to give him a chance, and now Harry was holding onto her greatest legacy, one that might have been ignored for something as petty as her parentage. He took several moments to calm himself, not willing to shed any tears with company just yet. His decision was simple really. "Can you make it work better?"

Rose didn't really know what to say. After all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get her name known around the world. If only Lily hadn't been so damned likeable, she could simply take all the credit for it. But blood rituals were restricted, and if any dark lord were to get their hands on this, they would be that much harder to kill. It might simply be best to let this fade into obscurity, or keep it as a Potter family ritual. "No. This was your mother's project, and you should keep it to yourself. If You-Know-Who were to get his hands on this, he would become even more terrible than he is now. I won't make it any easier for such evil to fester in the world."

Harry nodded, he hadn't really expected anything. Even so, learning more about his mother had been quite meaningful, and he was grateful that they were helping him so much, even if they did plan on cashing in on his fame later. He mumbled a 'Thank you' to Rose as she departed, leaving him to his thoughts while he prepared for the day.

* * *

Rose had similar yet completely different thoughts concerning the ritual. While profiting from it in terms of fame and fortune were out, she was quite sure Lily wouldn't object to a desperate mother using it to protect her child. There was only one flaw in the plan. Lily's ritual had never really been finished, even if it had worked. Refining it would require extensive testing, which would be impossible. If she were to use it, it would have to be the same version that had once protected Harry, requiring a sacrifice of magic and blood. Lily had always had plenty of magic; she would have only needed enough blood to draw the runes of life, love, and protection. It was the sacrifice of magic that was probably the reason no one had ever discovered this before. Lily had been willing to give everything for her son, but the Unspeakables had only curiosity, and lacked the willingness to consider such an extreme. But where Lily was gifted with plenty of magic, Rose was nearly a squib, and if she did this… No. It was worth it. A life without what little magic she had always treasured was a small price to pay for a life with her daughter.

* * *

Harry's tutoring of Pansy had gotten off to a rocky start. His first attempt to explain how to channel magic and spells without actually moving the wand had failed. He thought it would have gone well when she told him that she had always felt her magic and didn't need to find it, but clearly Harry's methods wouldn't work for her. It wasn't until he linked the wand movements to runic patterns that she understood, and she promptly fired a stinging hex at him for not explaining it like that hours ago. After that point, Pansy had proved to be a quick study, firmly grasping the theory, even if she still struggled with actually casting spells. She could only manage the simplest of charms, and transfiguration was impossible for her.

Harry wanted to ask how she managed to pass all her classes if she was clearly failing the practical here, but decided there was no tactful way to do so. Eventually she explained that she had been using illusions throughout the years to fool the teachers into believing she had accomplished whatever task they had set. "Of course, that didn't work too well on professor Flitwick. He caught on in second year, not long after I started. I don't think he's told anyone else though, because professor McGonagall still thinks I can transfigure better than most. He helps me with charms, but I'm just no good with anything that isn't an illusion." The look of shame and defeat that briefly flashed across her face did not go unnoticed.

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, but knew he had to try. After spending a minute or two thinking, he replied, "Maybe you're not good at other kinds of spells because you know you can't do them." At Pansy's confused look he added, "In third year, when I was learning how to do the patronus charm, professor Lupin told me he didn't expect me to succeed, because hardly anyone ever does. And he was right, because I failed repeatedly. It took ages to get even a funny mist, but until…" He was about to mention that he and Hermione had used a time turner, but stopped himself. "Until I knew I could do it, I couldn't. Once I knew I could, it was easy. It might not make much sense, but it might work."

Pansy could tell there was more to the story than he was telling, and resolved to ask him about it later. One doesn't suddenly realize they are capable of fairly advanced magic out of nowhere after all. However, his suggestion was eerily similar to professor Flitwick's advice, who told her she simply needed to believe in her ability to cast the spell. After yet another failed attempt to levitate a chair, which was basic first year magic, she wanted nothing more than to leave the room, but Harry stood there and urged her on. It wasn't the urging though, that got her attention, it was the slightest look of pity on his face that gave her the determination to succeed. She would not allow herself to be pitied, and if that meant making that stupid chair float, even just an inch, then she would make it look like the chair was supposed to sit an inch off the ground, and gravity could go sulk in a corner somewhere. Of course, once she realized the chair was doing just that, without her having muttered even the slightest of incantations, she jumped in surprise, and gravity took the opportunity to reassert its dominance over the piece of furniture.

While Pansy was connecting her experiences with Harry to professor Flitwick, Harry was drawing similar parallels to his lessons with Leo. It almost seemed as though being angry helped with magic somehow, at least sometimes. He was pleased at her success, partly because she succeeded, but also because it meant that he wasn't a miserable teacher. Hours went by unnoticed as they worked. Just as many hours had been spent on teaching Pansy the spells in the first place as teaching her how to use them silently, and many breaks had to be taken as she attempted harder and harder variations which Harry didn't fully understand. Chalking it up to another one of his own personal oddities that he never suffered from using too much magic, he allowed it. It gave them a chance to talk about other things, like runes and Quidditch. Pansy wasn't very open about her life, and Harry didn't pry. Similarly, Pansy chose not to pursue his life story after he told her he didn't want to talk about it.

* * *

"I don't see why you have to do this. You don't need to risk your life for something you told me was experimental! That's exactly why we accepted the boy into our home! He can protect her and us, without you having to do something so rash! Please, I can't lose you as well." Tears threatened to fall as David desperately pleaded with his wife. The idea that she would give up all her magic, and quite a lot of blood, just to protect their daughter from the killing curse was not one he liked. While he wasn't opposed to having more protection, he would really prefer trouble to keep away. A fool's hope to be sure, but one he clung to nonetheless.

"It's safe David." Rose's voice sounded tired, as though she had been contemplating this for years, even though it had only been a few hours. "I know I can do this. Hopefully, it won't ever be needed, but you know it's only a matter of time before someone realizes who we're backing now. Those wards won't be set up until the stones are finished and brought here, and until then we're not safe. Besides, it's already proven successful against the Dark Lord's killing curse once, it can be made to work again." Her voice, tired as it was, had the conviction of one who would not be stopped. David knew the argument, short as it was, had ended long before it started. No matter how much he would beg, she would not be deterred.

"At least give me enough time to bring in a healer, someone we can trust not to announce our secrets to the world. I won't give you up without a fight." Rose fell into his open arms as they both came to terms with their future, one very different than the one they had hoped for only a few years before.

* * *

In his office, Albus Dumbledore was tinkering with an odd looking machine. It had many silver loops of different sizes, each one slightly smaller than the one in which it was framed, and appeared to be held together by magic, as none of the loops were visibly supported by anything. He was merrily humming to himself as the portraits either snoozed or watched him in interest, and all of them seemed to be completely oblivious to the knocking at his door. True, few people ever bothered to knock on his door, and fewer had ever been given the chance to stand in front of the door long enough to do so before he opened it, but today he was creating a true masterpiece, and it was nearly finished. His humming and tinkering and obliviousness continued for several more minutes, until finally he had finished all three at once, which he considered a remarkable feat in itself. He would have marveled at his creation as all the portraits were now doing, if only for the fact that he now heard someone still knocking on the door. After shaking off the feeling that Fawkes would tell him 'Nevermore', he opened the door revealing a very annoyed professor McGonagall. "Ah, Minerva, do come in. I have just finished the most wondrous device, perhaps you would like to see it at work?" He did so enjoy sharing his creations after all, and too few people ever took an interest in what they were, satisfied instead by merely wondering to themselves.

Minerva, though admittedly intrigued, resolved to have her inquiries answered first. "Albus, I know you've always had your reasons, but really, why haven't you allowed Harry to live anywhere else this summer? He seemed to be so happy when he was with the Weasleys, and Tom would certainly love to see him back in the Leaky Cauldron, even if it meant paying Harry to stay there. So why then did you send him back to those awful muggles?" She fixed him with a stern glare, while internally hoping she could maintain it long enough to have an effect on the perpetually amused headmaster.

Dumbledore on the other hand, blinked, as though he had never even considered the thought that someone would ask him this. "Why Minerva, I haven't the foggiest idea of what you mean. Harry has already shown himself quite capable of finding alternative living arrangements should he desire to. The fact that he hasn't done so tells me that the Dursleys must provide acceptable living conditions at the least."

"Acceptable living conditions? Where were you when Hagrid reported Harry to be living in a cupboard under the stairs?"

Dumbledore continued looking faintly amused, though less than before. "Hagrid also said that Harry was given a proper bedroom later that day, and that Harry tidied it up rather nicely."

"Do you at least have some method of ensuring his sanity? A student," she still couldn't bring herself to name him, "was murdered right in front of him, and moments later, he watched as You-Know-Who returned! And he was tortured, _and_ he nearly died, and if that weren't enough, he was then nearly killed _again_ at the hands of a man who I might remind you, was _not_ Alastor Moody, whom you had hired." Dumbledore cringed, but it was clear his deputy headmistress was not yet finished. "What's worse is now I hear you have told Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley that they are to use caution in what they tell him, for owls are too easily intercepted. What you have apparently failed to realize is that they have taken this to mean not to say anything at all about anything they might be connected with, and you know that will only make him more upset. So do tell me just what you have brewing in that head of yours!"

To his credit, Albus looked quite abashed by what he had done, however unintentionally. "What else can I do Minerva? I have already made arrangements for him to move into Grimmauld place for part of the summer, should he wish to do so. Beyond that, Harry is on his own. I am sorry if his friends have misinterpreted my intentions, but he will see them soon enough." He slowly began wandering his office, looking at the other various devices that adorned the room, while Minerva stood glaring at him, as though attempting to will sense into his head.

"But in the meantime that poor boy is trapped with his horrid family, who will only make him even more miserable than he already must be! Surely you must have some plan to help him sooner?"

With an exasperated sigh, Dumbledore answered, "Minerva, if I could postpone my plans of world domination for the sake of my sister, Harry's family can spare him a room and plenty of food with the monthly stipend I give them. And my name is Albus. Now, onto more pleasant things? Pretty please with a sherbet lemon on top?" His smile was so like a child in a candy shop that Minerva simply couldn't stay upset with him, especially considering his arguments. Her insatiable desire to finally discover the purpose behind these devices didn't affect her judgment. Not one bit. Not really.

Albus smiled with twinkling eyes, these devices had brought him much entertainment over the years. "You see Minerva, in the Headmaster's Charter, there exists a clause set by the four founders of Hogwarts, that for every five years a headmaster holds his position, he must create one of these devices. The device may do anything the headmaster wishes, but they have to create one. Another clause states that at least once each year that a headmaster holds his position he must attempt to guess at the function of one of the devices made by a previous headmaster. Only three guesses are allowed per device. Fortunately, the headmaster's portraits all remember exactly what the devices they created do, so they can verify the accuracy of the guess."

At this point, professor McGonagall interrupted him. "If the headmaster has to guess as to the purpose of these devices," she said, gesturing to the many silver trinkets lying around the office, "Then why can you tell me what it is that they do?"

Really, sometimes Minerva could be too smart for her own good sometimes. "Because Minerva, the Headmaster's Oath includes a slight memory charm, causing the recipient to forget what it is that they have been told about these devices, thus ensuring they have no prior knowledge. This is why it is also suggested that no truly useful device be submitted for this purpose." A smile grew even wider on his face as he saw his deputy headmistress drawing conclusions.

"You mean… All of these items… Are pointless?" She was dumbfounded by her realization.

"Of course not. They simply have little purpose beyond that which they are given. This one for example," he gestured to the device on his desk that he had recently finished, "has spinning silver hoops." He pushed a button on the base of the device, and all of the hoops began spinning about on different axis, creating a somewhat mesmerizing effect. "To be confusing, the hoops are affected by the proximity of the nearest being." He demonstrated by moving his hand near the largest hoop, which promptly changed its pattern in order to avoid his hand. Pushing further toward the center caused all of the hoops to shift away from the device. "Its only purpose is for the hoops to spin, but the next headmaster or headmistress won't know. Isn't it wonderful?"

He then walked over to a shelf labeled A.P.W.B.D., which was seemingly larger than the bookcase on which it rested, but was difficult to notice if one didn't already know that fact. He pointed at another machine, also silver. "This one makes puffs of differently shaped smoke, perfect for mysterious one-sided conversations. And this one over here has a little light that blinks at random intervals. This," he gestured at a machine that looked far too grandiose for such a small thing, "is the machine that goes 'ping'". The machine in question obligingly gave a soft 'ping'.

Professor McGonagall was a bit overwhelmed by the amount of thought that went into something so… So useless. "If all the machines do exactly what they appear to do, then why bother with this frivolity at all?"

With a slightly hurt expression, Dumbledore responded, "Now now, Minerva. Not all of these devices are 'pointless'. Some of them are quite useful. This one helps me find things which I have misplaced, something I do with more frequency than I care to admit. Over here, I have one that functions as a clock, even though it was supposed to make tea. And this one, while I cannot even begin to fathom its true purpose, makes the founders' portraits giggle every time I go near it." The device in question was truly strange looking, and rested on a clearly ancient shelf labeled "Helga Hufflepuff". Sure enough, as he drew near to investigate, soft titters of laughter could be heard from the frames of the four founders. "I confess to having spent many a night wandering near it for the sole purpose of making them alternate between laughter and sleep."

"While this is all very interesting," Minerva said in a tone that suggested that it wasn't as interesting as she hoped it would be, "I believe you should make more of an effort to bring Harry closer to his friends. He's so rarely separated from them at school that it must be terrible for him to spend so long without them. Why not bring them all to Grimmauld place this week?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Minerva, Grimmauld place is in dire need of cleaning, and is currently no place for children. In a month or so the worst of it will be gone and the children won't be in danger from the house itself. Maybe we can bring them then, and they can learn something while assisting with the cleaning. As I've said before, there is nothing more I can do." This last statement was said with such finality that it was obvious there was no more to be said on the matter.

"Very well, Albus. I will let you return to your work. Good day." With that, Professor McGonagall strode out of the office, leaving behind a headmaster who hoped desperately that he had not made a mistake in sending Harry to his family. But family took care of each other, and that thought put his grievances aside.

* * *

Both teens were feeling quite exhausted as they left the training room, though between the two, Pansy was worse off. She chose to go straight to her room and take a short nap, despite the fact that due to the effects of the time bubble it was still fairly early in the day. Harry wandered down to the library again to continue reading. He had discovered that while magic was quite useful for doing one or two things at a time, much care had to be taken to use several kinds of magic on something at once. Many were the children just beginning school who discovered hitting someone with a wide variety of jinxes and hexes would be far more dangerous than simply one or two. Though almost never fatal, these amalgamations of magic were far more difficult to dispel than they would be individually. On a similar vein, one spell being cast repeatedly over a short time would have its effects greatly magnified, which was a trick often used by weaker witches and wizards. Unfortunately this seldom proved useful in battle when a caster was lucky to land a single hit, but was frequently put to use in the healing profession as an easy way to fix minor wounds, and not useless with more serious injuries when potions were unavailable or ill advised. He was so engrossed in his reading that he didn't even notice the hours slowly passing by, much less the curious look he received from Pansy, who had awoken from her nap.

* * *

**Wednesday**

Looking around, the house had been devastated, but a closer look revealed that the house was also… wrong somehow. The couch was in the wrong place, and it looked too perfect for the amount of stuffing scattered around the floor. The fireplace was roaring silently, but it emitted no light or warmth. The portraits were familiar, but he was sure he hadn't seen them in years. And there in the corner… was a woman, lying in a pool of blood, presumably her own. Her face however, was full of life, frozen in time like a photograph. She seemed familiar, but it was impossible to recall who she was. He tried to go to her, but he could not move. He called out, but no words would sound. A man revealed himself in the doorway, clearly living, but his face was the opposite of the woman's. He was clearly alive, but he had been mutilated so much that there was no explanation apparent for his mobility. His lifeless mouth opened as though talking, but again, no words sounded. The man appeared to laugh, then raised his wand. Though he could not hear the incantation, he knew instinctively that this spell was hostile, and attempted something taught to all Aurors and Unspeakables for use in an emergency such as this. Given the runic nature of magic and spellcasting, one with sufficient willpower can focus magic into a different pattern than an opponent intends. It was a dead man's gamble, for the result was usually fatal for both sides if it worked. However, this man was clearly also an accomplished spellcaster, for he was fighting the disruption. The spell burst forth from his wand, and only a slight change had been made to the pattern. Now he could only hope it had been enough. When the spell impacted on his head however, a sudden weight slammed into his stomach, jarring his eyes open even though he could not remember closing them.

His newly opened eyes quickly adjusted to the change in light like he had long ago trained himself to do, and saw the face of a cat only inches away from his own. "Mornin' Fusker," Leo said as he quickly rubbed the cats head and ears affectionately. Fusker began purring and jumped off his master, allowing him to get out of bed. After all, sleep was far less important than breakfast, and the feline was hungry. Still slightly shaken from his nightmare, he nearly jumped when a voice came from the other side of the bed. "Had another nightmare, dear?"

He sat up and shook his head. "Nope, same as always. Not much I haven't seen before." Bitterly he thought to himself, 'I wish I had.' For years he had endured the nightmares, hoping to break whatever block was keeping him out. There were so many things he couldn't remember. A young version of himself stood in a photo next to a young woman, dressed as though they were wed only that day. No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't remember her name, or even his own. Her face from that photo was the one that haunted his nightmares, so it was likely that the marriage wasn't long before her murder. Leo was written on his nametag, but it had taken him several months to be able to recall that information on his own, with frequent reminders. It may have even been his real name, but he suspected it was the codename he had earned as an Unspeakable.

The man was a different matter. His face had come from Leo's own memory, the memory of when he had finally finished his hunt for the one who took so much away from him. It had taken years, and he had worked his way through a substantial number of Grindelwald's forces to find him, which earned him a reputation that stuck with him to this day. Fortunately Dumbledore had eventually defeated Grindelwald, which meant that Leo would be left alone for the most part.

Over the years some of his memory had recovered, thanks to his self induced nightmares. If it weren't for the company of Eli Parkinson, he might have gone mad from all the things he had done and seen, but Eli helped him more than anyone else. He even introduced him to his current wife, Miriam Griffiths, who also had lost family during the same war. Their marriage had been a fairly happy one, even despite the fact that Leo carried around the picture of his previous wedding day in the hopes that he might one day remember the couple standing there, smiling as though they had not a care in the world. That wasn't to say that Leo was without his quirks, for every day he would inspect the wards surrounding his house. He had hired no fewer than 16 contractors to add wards, and afterwards had added his own. Few could ever afford such a thing, but with all of the bounties he had pulled in from his hunt, and the many things he'd found in his life, he had hardly bankrupted himself, and his alternative employments ensured he stayed well off. He would have made quite the bundle off of his current tutoring of Harry Potter if he hadn't been doing David a personal favor.

Of course, he nearly didn't bother. He fully expected Potter to be some snot nosed, spoiled, whiny rich child, much like Draco Malfoy. He was surprised then to find not an ounce of those mannerisms, but the same fire that had started in Leo on that fateful night. The fire to do absolutely anything to protect those he cared about, and failing that, to destroy what he couldn't stop the first time. It was for that reason he would teach Harry nearly everything he knew about how to survive, and quite possibly everything he knew about how to take a life. After all, it wasn't very often that a dead man would attack again.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry had awoken in grim anticipation of the day. His previous days with Leo, while instructive, had also been quite grueling. Always his instructor had found something to criticize about him. His aim was off, his movement was sloppy, his focus was too narrow… And there was a seemingly endless stream of stinging hexes all day just to keep him aware of his surroundings. This time though, would be different. After eating breakfast earlier, Harry had donned his invisibility cloak and stood opposite the fireplace where Leo had emerged on the previous days. It was a stupid plan, but hopefully surprising his teacher was better than disappointing him.

Thus it came as quite a shock to Harry when instead of the floo roaring to life with an emerald flame heralding the arrival of his target; it was the door that opened in the room behind him. The measured pace of his footsteps made it sound as though he was still unaware of Harry's presence, which suited Harry just fine, at least until the footsteps came to a halt. Harry slowly crept into the same room as Leo, taking care not to make any noise.

Carefully leveling his wand at his target's profile, he prepared the stinging hex that everyone seemed so fond of. What happened next was so fast that had there been any witnesses, they would have been left wondering what exactly they saw. Harry had been certain his casting was utterly silent, so when Leo had turned just as the spell left his wand and reflected it back with considerable force, Harry might have thought it coincidence, were it not for the smile he saw. Fortunately, Harry had almost been expecting this, and was quickly out of the spells way.

"Next time you want to set up an ambush, make sure you know where your target will be. Silencing your breathing would be good too." He left with a smirk still on his face that suggested Harry would be paying for this stunt for quite some time.

* * *

Upstairs, Pansy, who had been working on her summer assignments, heard what sounded like a very short duel in the entrance room of the house. Fearing the worst, she quickly disillusioned herself, leaving behind only a faintly human shaped distortion of the space she occupied. No matter her talent with illusions, it wouldn't hold forever, so she needed to be quick. Sneaking very quietly down the stairs, her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The intruder spoke, but it was difficult to hear what was being said. She took a side route to the entrance room so as to surprise any intruders that might be lingering. An overturned chair was the only obvious sign of the duel, with the minor scorch mark suggesting someone quite powerful had been the one casting spells. Not many spells would leave a scorch mark if they weren't actually supposed to. But who would be casting such a spell without leaving a body? As Pansy began pondering this latest information, the floo roared to life, causing Pansy to jump and nearly shriek. Whipping her wand toward the fireplace, she prepared the nastiest illusions she could think of to disable the reinforcements. Just before she cast however, the figure walked out, revealing not a Death Eater, but the girl she privately referred to as the most dangerous Slytherin in Hogwarts, Tracey Davis.

While Tracey was not the vindictive or bullying sort, she was friendly with everyone in the school. What made her dangerous though, was that everyone was friendly to her as well. Even Ron Weasley was convinced the house elves were sorting her clothing wrong and that she was really a Hufflepuff. With the number of people willing to help her with anything at her request, it was obvious that she would be successful in the career of her choice. Pansy was pretty sure Tracey would someday become Minister for Magic, and had wasted no time in befriending the perky blonde. Although at the time it had been more about having someone to talk to when it was apparent that Draco wasn't interested, in hindsight it had been quite profitable.

Dispelling her disillusionment, it was Tracey's turn to be startled. The closing of the door upstairs as she did so implied that the intruder she had been hunting was either Harry or Leo, though that didn't answer why there had been hexing at the door. "Tracey? What are you doing here? I thought you were," she stopped short of saying, 'a Death Eater', and decided on, "someone else."

The short pause wasn't lost on Tracey though, and she gave Pansy an inquisitive look. "Death Eaters already came here? I hoped I was in time to warn you. Daphne's family has already gone into lockdown so they should be okay. No one with dwarf wards was attacked last time, but they want to be sure it stays that way this time." Tracey continued rambling while Pansy only half listened, nodding and agreeing at appropriate intervals. The concern was touching but Pansy hardly needed the reminder that her family had spent so much money trying to look rich in order to fit in with the upper class purebloods that they never really had much money at any one time. They could get by, but it was well known to the few who paid attention that the only difference between the Parkinson's and the Weasley's finance was that the Weasleys had six more children to care for. This meant that while the Parkinsons weren't obviously poor, they still had to be cautious about many things. It wasn't until Pansy recognized a hint of silence that she realized she had just been questioned about what her family was going to do should the Death Eaters come calling again.

"Well, we ordered some goblin wards, and apparently they aren't charging us for the materials on account of my mother's occasional contracts with them." She left out the part where the materials didn't really cost the goblins anything, many of the rocks and minerals they removed from their tunnels worked just fine for the carving of wards. However this didn't stop them from charging for it anyway. After all, whenever it was possible, a goblin would attempt to relieve any wizard of as much money as he could. The best goblins could even make the wizard glad about the practice. "They're scheduled to be delivered within a week or so, and charged the day after. All we can hope is that no one notices."

However likeable she was, Tracey hadn't been known for stupidity. The goblins might have given a discount, but they would never give anything away. "What aren't you telling me? Come on, you know I can keep a secret. What's going on?"

Pansy smiled mischievously. "I can keep a secret too. I'll tell you someday, but it can't be anytime soon, okay? If word gets out this could really blow up in our faces, and I would very much like to live to see next month." Tracey seemed unsatisfied at this answer, but being in Slytherin meant she was no stranger to schemes, lies, and hidden plots. Of course, many of them revolved around fairly mundane things, like who was doing whose homework, and the occasional disappearance of an item.

Pansy then listened as Tracey gave a more detailed rundown of what she had heard from the other families. The Bulstrodes weren't taking any sort of defensive action, nor were the Zabini's. However, the former was more likely to be in support of the Dark Lord, and the latter were simply arrogant. The Crabbe and Goyle families were following the Malfoys, which came as no surprise. That arrangement had been going on for nearly a century now. The Nott family was all but openly supportive of Death Eater activity, and it seemed as though the house would be greatly divided in the coming years. Pansy marveled at how this girl managed to learn so much about all their house mates, and likely all from each family regardless of sides. It was even more remarkable considering her halfblooded heritage would make her a likely target eventually.

Tracey's family didn't have many options beyond not drawing attention to themselves. Not being a pureblooded family meant they weren't approached, and it had been Daphne who had first warned Tracey what was coming. Tracey had then methodically visited the other families with the excuse of a social call, and learned it was very probable that the Death Eaters truly were reforming, something that simply didn't seem likely without the return of You-Know-Who.

After the unpleasant news had passed, the talk gradually turned to lighter topics, such as betting on whom the new defense teacher would be and how they would be forced to leave before the end of the year. Pansy suggested a hag being removed for torturing a student, and Tracey insisted it would be a squib that only got the job because Dumbledore couldn't find anyone else. Both students were nearing the end of their summer homework, but Tracey was jealous that Pansy had side projects that she was allowed to work on, even though no more progress had been made on the old books.

The sound of a door and footsteps up above ended the conversation though, and drew yet another inquisitive look from Tracey. "Who's upstairs, Pansy? Don't your parents normally work during the day?"

The question was readily deflected however. "Mother doesn't always leave the house when she doesn't have to, and sometimes father pops in for a little while when he needs a break." While both statements were true, Tracey didn't need to know that they didn't apply to the current situation. The implications also made Tracey's face redden before she decided she needed to be at home anyway. After a short but heartfelt farewell, the blonde vanished in a roar of green fire just as Leo turned around the corner. He too smiled just before he left the same way he had come in that morning, but his smile implied that the remaining occupant of the house had done something incredibly stupid and paid for it. This was a story she just had to get for herself.

Quickly moving up the stairs, she opened the door to Harry's room, finding him lying face down on the bed. The only sign that anyone gave to acknowledge her presence was a glance in her direction from the owl guarding his bedpost. Torn between amusement and concern, she asked, "What happened to you?"

Harry shifted slightly to face her general direction. His tired voice responded, "If you ever get the idea to ambush that crazy old man, don't." Pansy stifled a giggle.

* * *

Harry collapsed into his bed that night completely exhausted. After his failed ambush, Leo had drilled him in stealth, evasion, accuracy, and creativeness for what felt like weeks. It had probably not been that long, but it was difficult to tell with time flowing at a different rate than he was used to. On the bright side, he was now confident that he could sneak around Hogwarts without worrying about being caught by anyone but possibly Dumbledore. The physical workout that followed later in the day had been the cause of his current exhaustion, and he was definitely ready to sleep. He lay there listening to the various noises of the outside, the window open for Hedwig's convenience. She had been gone since he awoke from his brief nap earlier in the day, and he was sure that upon her return in the morning she would have a letter tied to her leg. He was excited at the thought of correspondence with his friends, and the thought kept him happy as he drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

Eric Chapman sat in his living room, trying to relax after another stressful day at St. Mungo's. It was tiring having to correct accidental spell damage all day, especially when it was exceedingly rare to see the same accident twice. Nearly every case that came in was brand new, and frequently the patient was less than forthcoming about how they ended up in such a predicament. Today a patient had come in with an alligator fused to her hand. It had originally been a purse, but a malicious transfiguration gone wrong had made it come to life, with her hand unable to let go. Repairing the damage the gator had done to her legs wasn't difficult, but sedating it long enough to reverse the damage without removing her hand was more challenging. And that had been one of his relatively easy days. There were days that a patient would come in only to hear that there was simply nothing that could be done for them, and would they like a sugar quill?

Still lost in his thoughts, he was fairly unaware when the fireplace in front of him changed to green. He did notice when a head popped up and spoke. "Eric Chapman. On the twenty-third of March in the year of 1988, I represented your defense in one malpractice suit for the price of a favor to be repaid at a later date. How soon can you arrive at my house?"

Eric sighed. He knew that favor would come back to haunt him. It hadn't been his fault that the man slapped his wand just as he cast a severing charm to remove a particularly nasty boil. All the precautions would have ensured that only the boil would have been removed, but with the redirection, the man had lost a finger for all of two minutes. It had been reattached without a scar, but nevertheless, the patient sued. With little ability to afford a barrister, he chose to ask David. The Parkinsons were a family known for accepting favors in exchange for services, but it was always a dangerous thing to give away. Unlike in the muggle world, a wizards or witches favors were difficult not to repay when called on formally. Not only was there a magical obligation, but the refusal to return a favor could severely damage a family's reputation if it were ever made known.

"I'm not going to like this am I? I can be there in a few minutes if I'm needed now." The healer groaned as he rose from his chair.

"Now would be preferable. Bring a full kit." David's tone did nothing to calm Eric. People rarely spoke in that tone to refer to rainbows and unicorns after all. It sounded as though he wouldn't even be allowed to speak about this when it was all finished. After assembling his full healer's kit, he prepared to cross the threshold of his fireplace to reappear in the Parkinson home. He was met on the other end by a grim looking David, who spoke once more. "I need you to assure me your silence about the event that will take place tonight." Nope, this certainly would not be a pleasurable house call. He could only hope against hope that whatever he might bear witness to or clean up after wouldn't be too illegal.

After assuring his silence, he was led upstairs to a dimly lit room that contained a standing Rose Parkinson, and their sleeping daughter Pansy. He quickly noted that the only covering on Pansy's upper body was a bra, and turned to look elsewhere lest he be accused of staring. Rose stood over Pansy with a small knife and a brush, explaining that they had ensured she would sleep through this night soundly. The knife was soon used to open a gash on Rose's left hand, and the blood began to flow. Quickly she took the brush to collect the blood, and used it to paint three runes in a triangle, though his view was obstructed and he could not identify them. His discomfort grew as he realized he was likely bearing witness to a blood ritual, and his realization that if he was not silent about it, he would be implicated as well. Upon realizing this, he was not quite so surprised when the woman in front of him slashed her own wrist and allowed the blood to flow into a bowl. He could feel the magic stirring the room, something that greatly impressed him. He knew the Parkinsons weren't magically powerful, and Rose was likely the weakest in a long time, but with the amount of blood she was spilling to amplify her power, the effect was somewhat humbling. Soon though, he began to worry, as there was a lot of blood being used, and she showed no signs of stopping. Only when the bowl was nearly filled and Pansy began to glow an eerie red did he realize it was nearly time for him to take action. He watched as the bowl emptied itself, and when Rose fell backwards into his arms he saw three runes fading away from view on the child. He only had time to recognize the rune of life, one that hung in many places throughout St. Mungo's.

After healing her cuts, which proved to be more difficult than usual, his diagnostic charms showed that his secret patient was no longer a witch, but a squib. It was truly terrifying to discover that someone could lose the ability to use magic, but it also meant he would have to use different potions from his normal stock. Squibs didn't have nearly as much magic to effectively use a potion, and the few that did work were specially designed to activate for those who could not use their own magic to supply the effect. It was a sleepless night for the two men as one ensured that Rose would not succumb to her blood loss while the potion took effect, and the other watched helplessly, holding his wife's hand.

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A/N: I write slowly and infrequently. I won't be updating this story quickly, but barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will finish it. If you see any mistakes or inconsistencies, please tell me about them.

Thank you all of you who have reviewed so far. I appreciate all of your reviews, even if it's not always for the same reasons.


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